Supernatural: Next Generation
by waywardbard
Summary: Ben Braeden is just your average hunter out save the world. Mid-case he runs into another hunter, Claire Novak, and the two become partners. Life becomes more complicated when they encounter a drifter with inexplicable abilities named Jesse Turner.
1. Foreword & Author Notes

This is a story co-written by myself, Adalanne (~ady), and BeerAndSuckers on tumblr.

As a general warning, this fic is rated M. Episodes are smut-free, but deleted and extended scenes are fair play. You have been warned.

We write in an episodic format because that's what the shows are written in. Some stories carry arcs, but most could be considered stand-alones.

There are also soundtracks available in volumes, if you're into that sort of thing. Here's the link: asylums[.]insanejournal[.]com/spn_nextgen/tag/!soundtrack

I would not have posted this story on this server were it not for ~audreyii-fic, so you have her to thank.

If I don't respond to feedback, it's because I am horrible at responding. Also, I probably am studying for a test I've been procrastinating to do. That's college for ya, I guess.

I hope you enjoy.

xox ~ Cor

PS: If you're on pretty much any social network, you should look for me. I might even respond back. The name is always the same. Hint hint.

**Edit (24-Aug-11):** Episode 19 contains two guest writers, CeruleanOctober and TheGeminiSage on tumblr. They were fantastic to work with and we are so happy to have had a chance to write with them.


	2. Episode 1: Chance Meetings

"That'll be $110."

Benjamen Braeden tried not to flinch at the price, reaching into the depths of his jacket to find his worn-out wallet.

"Can I pay half cash, half credit?"

"Yes, sir," the hotel clerk replied. It was just as well, since he'd only had about $65 in the billfold. He was going to need to find another poker game or pool table in the near future in order to make up the difference. Of course, there had been the option of staying at Kim's apartment on the couch, but the problem with that was that he wouldn't be able to spread out like he was prone to do.

Besides, Kim had a new boyfriend, and that would be all kinds of awkward.

His mom would understand the charge on the card. After all, she'd been the one to push it into his hand and tell him to use it if he needed to. It didn't make the guilt go away, though. Ben _hated_ having to rely on his mother's help.

Once the exchange of money and services was made, Ben picked up his bag from where he'd rested it at his feet and headed out of the lobby in the direction of his room. He was barely through the doors before he'd started getting to work.

The bare wall just to the left of his single queen bed was quickly filled with taped-up newspaper clippings and computer print-offs, names and key phrases standing out in bright yellow highlighter. Once that was finished, out came the city map. Four separate thumbtacks were pressed into its surface, forming a visible trail in the shape of a crooked J midway through the city. Ben took a few steps back and looked at his work, his hands automatically flipping up his laptop and pressing the 'on' switch. He reached for the phone in his pocket with the intent of calling up the police station when it suddenly buzzed in his hand, startling him, the ring-tone picking up after a second or two of delay.

_Mama, I'm coming home / Times gone by seems to be / You could have been a better fri-_

Ben flipped the phone open and tucked it between his ear and his shoulder.

"Hey, mom."

"_I thought you were gonna call me when you got into Detroit?_" came the little voice on the other end. Ben knew that tone better than anything and winced automatically even though she wasn't in front of him. It was a reflex.

"I didn't have any signal," he lied, his fingers rapidly typing in the password that the front desk clerk had given him to access the Wi-Fi. "If I'd known, I'd've called at the rest-stop."

That seemed to appease her, but only enough to change the anger to concern. "_How much did the hotel cost? Do you have enough to get food?_"

"I'm fine, mom," Ben replied, scowling a little. "I'm 24, okay? Not twelve. I can handle it."

"_I'm just-_"

"How's Krysta?" he asked, cutting her off. It was much easier to get his mother to talk about his kid sister than to give her enough headway to ramble on about Western-Unioning him cash or something. Sometimes he wondered if she ever registered that he was growing up. Krysta had just turned thirteen. She'd be going to high school in two weeks. It was no wonder his mother was in full-on maternal mode.

Ben allowed her to go on for about fifteen minutes before he finally told her he had to go. There was a job to do, after all. He couldn't keep letting his mother's worry cut into his time.

"_Will you call me tonight before you go to bed?_"

"I'll try," he answered, dodging the promise he knew she wanted to hear. He had no idea how long he'd have to work that first night. There was a lot of ground to cover.

"_Just be, safe, okay? I love you._"

"Love you, too," he parroted, forcibly holding back a sigh. "'Bye, mom."

Ben frowned down at the screen as the minutes elapsed blinked back at him. "Okay," he exhaled, dialing in the area code as he brought up the local number of the police station through a quick google check. It was going to be a long afternoon.

* * *

><p>The laptop screen cast a blue haze that cut through the unlit darkness of the basement office in St. Ireanus Episcopal Church. Claire pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed at the impending headache. She'd meant to run to the corner 7-11 for a package of light bulbs when she discovered the office's one desk lamp burn-out, three hours ago. Somehow it just kept escaping her attention.<p>

Instead, she'd been focusing on the time-line drafted on her screen, which mapped a string of too-similar instances across the Midwest for the last three years; piece by piece connected after what had been, at that point, a full day of researching. But right now, her eyes were spent. She needed a break.

Blue eyes squeezed shut, then opened wide-as if that would stretch the fuzzy discomfort behind them. Claire closed her laptop, laced her arms through the worn canvass jacket, and headed for the door that lead through the church's Sunday School, and ultimately for the LaFayette Street exit.

The sun was ten times worse than the laptop glow, stabbing at her brain before she had a chance to slide a pair of almost superstitiously loved Aviators from her hair and over her eyes-one thin hand extended toward traffic to hail a cab. Caffeine would knock the migraine back a few levels-Claire just hoped there was a Starbucks or Dunkin' Donuts next to the police station.

Thirty-five minutes later, the side trip put her through the lobby doors a little too close to her appointment time-or rather, 'Helen Garison's' appointment time with the department's PR officer's assistant. Fortunately, like every police department in the frickin' country, the bureaucratic nature of the beast assured she'd still be waiting a half hour or so. Maybe more. She'd heard stories about this city.

"Hi there!" A bright and bubbly grin greeted the uniformed 'receptionist' at the front desk; the tone was like chalky candy in her mouth, and left a bad aftertaste. The middle aged woman didn't look up at first, intent on her computer screen and the keyboard under her fingers. Claire could see by the reflection in her glasses it was an intense game of Mine Sweep.

"Reporting or picking up?" the receptionist finally tore herself away for a look at the picture of Abercrombie College ads 'beaming' down at her.

"Oh-_oh_, neither. I'm Helen Garison, I have an appointment with Mister..._um_..." Claire made a show of looking incompetent by pushing her shades into dark blond waves to glance at the palm of her hand, like she'd written something there. Of course, she hadn't. "Davis. I'm from Wayne State?" She gave the older woman another grin that hurt her head.

The other woman frowned thoughtfully, then went silent as she pulled up a few things on her screen.

"Officer Davis is in the middle of speaking with a U.S. Marshal," she replied. "Have a seat. He'll be with you in a few moments."

_No surprise there._ "Great! Thanks a lot." Claire started to turn, readjusting the shoulder strap of her bag, but paused, bellying up to the chest-high counter. "Seven down, three to the left." She forced a friendly smile, tapped the counter with two fingertips, and headed to the string of benches that lined the lobby wall. The woman cocked a dyed-red brow, then looked back at her screen. _Seven down, three to the... left..._

"I'll be damned..." she muttered when the little tip won her the game.

"...anything, feel free to call my direct line."

"Thank you, sir. You've been very helpful."

Two men came through the main lobby - one clearly older with graying hair at his temples, a heavy moustache, and wrinkles around his forehead and eyes; the younger a taller, wiry man with dark brown hair, dressed in a suit rather than an officer's uniform. The younger man had a manilla folder tucked beneath his arm, and paused to shake the officer's hand briskly.

"Good luck."

The younger man flashed him a polite smile. "You, too." He started to leave, but paused at the receptionist's desk.

"Where's a good place to get a decent cuppa coffee 'round here?" he asked her, clearly dialing up the charm. The receptionist smiled up at him.

"There's a little diner about three blocks down. They've got a really great strawberry pie, too. Probably the best I've had in the city."

His brows arched and his smile lengthened. "Sounds like my kind of place. Thanks for the tip, Miss..."

"Walters. You can call me Nells, though."

His smile only lengthened. "Thank you, Nells. Maybe I'll seeya there some time, while I'm in town."

Some used the phrase 'never forget a face'- however loosely, the concept was always the same. It was a bit different for those with an eidetic memory, like Claire; a useful tool, especially when it came to keeping her stories, identities, and facts straight. Of course, the unrelenting streams of information tended to keep her from sleeping. That, and a number of other things. Her eyes were always methodically wandering, usually behind her shades, catching detail without effort and filing it away to be pulled up again later, or gather dust in the back of her mind. The file cabinet slammed open when she looked at that younger man's face.

Claire honed in on the conversation as a default whenever something caught her attention-the pair of them _had_ just filtered out from the office door with the 'Jacob Davis' placard on the side. She was subconsciously trying to figure out the reason why she recognized him, but _knew_ she'd never seen him before.

Claire flexed the fingers on her right hand, one by one, popping old tension in her usual habit whenever she had to decide something. That man's familiarity, combined with the previous location of the file he was holding was starting to weigh a little more than a fake (and probably sugar coated) interview for a college paper on local happenings.

The young man -no doubt the US Marshal the receptionist had mentioned- moved out from behind her desk and started heading out through the door, oblivious to his being watched.

Claire anticipated each footstep once he left her peripheral vision. She'd made the decision to follow him, but not yet. Time wasn't very reliable, but at least she had a good idea of which way he was headed. She just hoped he didn't get distracted while she dealt with-

"Miss Garison?" the older man spoke down at her quickly, after having veered away from Nells Walters and her cougar smile and new game of Mine Sweep. Claire flicked her eyes up at him; the well practiced smile was brilliant, automatic, and completely false.

"Yes! Please, call me Helen." She stood and shook his hand when he offered it, then put her own back in the pocket of her coat, purposely fingering the pre-paid cell phone's memorized keypad. "I promise I won't keep you very long, but I just had a few questions for the Wayne Chronicle about-"

_Prepare yourself, you know it's a must... You got a friend in Jesus._ The tinny but recognizable Norman Greenbaum lyrics suddenly erupted from her pocket. Claire made her face look surprised, then apologetic. If she gave him hope of a quick reprieve of this little meeting by answering the fake phone call, all the better. "Gosh, I'm-I'm so sorry. Just'a sec..."

_...he's gonna recommend you to the spirit in the sky..._ chimed the phone, only stopped when she put it to her ear. Officer Davis looked mildly perturbed as his appointment went on with a one sided conversation, and broke in with an excusatory touch on her elbow, to get her attention. Of course, he had it the whole time.

"I'm sorry, Miss Garison," he pointed at the reception desk and gave her a smile. "This isn't the best time anyway-if you'll reschedule-"

"Oh totally! Yeah, no problem." Claire laid it on thick by lazily dismissing his quick withdraw with projected indifference. Thirty-seconds later, she was back outside, heading for the best pie in the city.

* * *

><p>Unfortunately, Ben hadn't been able to afford the pie. He refused to use the card for a second time that day, and had managed to find enough change in his car cupholder to pay for the refillable coffee.<p>

Ben drank mechanically as he worked, the computer open and off to the side while he read through the reports Davis had given him. There appeared to be no known clear connection between the choices and the subjects. Ben paused at the photo of Kim's dad, his frown deepening. He was still in custody as a suspect. Seeing the picture made him reach for his phone to text her with where to meet him.

Claire shifted against the back of the bar seat where her coat had bunched uncomfortably, twisting her mug of coffee between her fingertips on the counter. She'd only been there for about five minutes, keeping an eye on the back of the familiar young man. No point in making any move yet, but she was happy to have a vantage point that gave her a near-complete view of his open laptop.

_Why do I know you._ She caught his profile when he angled a look toward his phone. Claire caught the quick flash of the name 'Kim' before the track-bar announced a sent message, but the glare prevented her from reading it.

Ben waited for the answering text and when it didn't immediately come, he pocketed the phone again and sighed, reaching for his coffee mug. It was empty. When the waitress came by he signalled her with a gentle hand raise and a smile.

"Ready for some pie, honey?" she tilted the steaming coffee pot over the porcelain mug.

"Wish I could," Ben said with a sigh and a laugh. "I'm a little short on cash at the moment. Rain-check, though?"

"It's a date," the older woman replied, smiling genuinely, if only for customer service reasons. Claire's mouth pulled into one cheek, then looked at the screen of his open laptop again. Among the Google windows and something open in Word, she caught a Craigslist search for local poker venues. Interesting...

As the waitress headed off, Ben turned his head to watch her go. It was only then that he connected eyes with the blonde at the bar. His brows arched slightly.

Claire's first instinct was to smile, for several reasons. Her upbringing, for one; politeness and temperance and all the like, which she found in her worldly experience to be complete hogwash. She smiled mainly because putting on a defensive front was likely to be counterproductive. Also, because she wanted to make her being caught watching seem to have a purpose other than overt spying.

When she didn't look a way, Ben met her smile, obviously pleased. He licked his lips and took a breath, speaking loud enough so that his voice carried: "Care to join me?"

Apparently her smile worked better than she thought. Claire pressed her lips together in a show of contemplation, then shrugged lightly-more with her expression than actual movement of her shoulders. "Why not?" _Maybe a name will help,_ she thought, gathering her coat and shoulder bag. It was only a few steps around the counter corner; Claire slid into the seat across from him.

Ben waited until she was seated before leaning over the table slightly, speaking in a low voice.

"Just so you know," he told her evenly. "I've got a gun pointed at you."

Though she was careful to keep her expression from changing much from the initial arch of both eyebrows, something in her eyes sharpened. Claire held still for a second, then mimicked his lean over the table, and tried to mirror his tone.

"Is that the new take on the old 'gun in my pocket' euphemism?" She balanced on the edge of friendly sarcasm and even toned alarm-wondering just which way this was about to go.

"Nope," he replied. A moment later, she could feel the barrel press briefly into her knee. "Definitely a real gun." He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly at her. "I saw you at the police station. Why are you following me?"

_Interesting_. Claire kept herself still, her fingertips half-curled on her jeans to vent the tension that wasn't showing. She kept her eyes on his, and found the color to be another distinct point of the unexplained familiarity; the strongest yet.

Finally, she inhaled and exhaled slow, and let her breath carry her voice a little lower. "Why are you impersonating a U.S. Marshall?" She'd made that distinction early on, in the way he walked when he didn't think the police were watching. Not to mention the fact he was clearly too young, or possibly right on that edge.

Ben's face immediately pinched in a scowl. "Who are you? What do you want?"

There were bells going off left and right in the back of her brain, pieces of this little puzzle falling into place, even though the picture was still veiled. Claire was definitely glad God pointed her toward the decision of following him.

His gaze narrowed, and she smiled at him, rather gently. "Cherry." She looked up for the waitress a few steps away and beckoned her with a quick wave, then looked back at him. "How'bout you? I'd guess pumpkin with a ton of whipped cream..."

Just the barest hint of color crossed his face, and after a few moments his hands reappeared on the tabletop between them.

"Yeah, actually." The strawberry had been tempting, but one couldn't go wrong with a classic.

The waitress approached and shot a smile at both. Claire's eyes lingered a bit longer on her company's face before turning up to the woman, smiling. "Piece of cherry and pumpkin, heavy on the whip cream?"

"Sure thing, honey," she replied, jotting the order down as she left Claire looked back at the fake federal employee, her brows arched in expectation. It was odd, this tenuous level of recognition. He had a small handle on her, she had a slightly bigger one on him-or so, she'd like to have thought. The gun had been a little surprising.

"You didn't answer my question," Ben prompted again after the waitress had wandered off, though his tone was considerably less hostile than previously. Despite himself, this girl had managed to get under his skin. Maybe it was those big blue eyes. It was like looking into the sky on a clear, bright day.

"Actually, I did answer _one_," she corrected him lightly, and sat back against the red vinyl booth. "You didn't even attempt to answer mine, but I'm not gonna ask again." As a courtesy, she placed her elbows on the table top, lacing her fingers together in front. She held his eyes, and despite her aversion to attaching such details to her observations, found herself wondering just how many colors someone could fit into that shade of dark hazel.

"Let's review: you _quite successfully_ pulled the wool over the PR Officer's eyes, enough to grant you 'take-home status' of that right there," Claire's eyes darted pointedly to the file under his elbow. "Which means, _one_-you've done it before and _two_-whatever it is you _do_ want has to do with someone on the other side of the law." She gestured with one hand, flippant and girlish. Part of the act she hadn't quite let go of yet. "Should I go on?"

"Are you a reporter or something?" he asked, trying to sidetrack her. He didn't like how easily she'd picked apart his cover story. If she had, there was no telling how long it would take the police officer to figure it out.

"Do I look like one?"

_You look like a Catholic schoolgirl, actually,_ he wanted to say. Fortunately, he bit back the words, though the images that came flooding into his mind were a little harder to stifle.

"You could be for all I know. Suffice to say, I'm not sayin' another word to you if you're planning on ratting me out. I have a job to do."

A dimple cut into Claire's cheek when her lips twitched into something between a smirk and a smile. She was quiet, only because the older waitress was rounding the corner with their desserts. As soon as they were set on the table, Claire anticipated the next question, and cut it off before it left the woman's lips.

"We're good, thanks." Then back to him, she assured him: "If I wanted to turn you in, I would'a done it by now."

"Believe it or not, that doesn't reassure me," Ben said with the hint of a frown.

"Alright, tell me one thing. And keep in mind, I'm watching for a lie..." Claire began with a somewhat casual glance down at her pie. She picked up the fork and sliced off a small bite. "Who's the file on?" Her eyes were back on him, sharp and focused blue, even as she closed her lips around the glazed cherry and cream.

For a moment, Ben was completely fixated on her mouth. He almost forgot she'd asked a question. If anything, it only made him angrier at himself. He should have just packed up and left the moment he recognized her, but no doubt she would have just followed him back to his hotel. He didn't want to risk it.

"Max Riley," he said finally, bringing his eyes sharply back up to hers again. His pie was left untouched in front of him.

The previous ringing in the back of her memory became a chorus of bells. The only apprehended suspect in the string of robberies just odd enough that it had brought her up to Michigan in the first place: Max Riley. Claire's smile was faint, and the look behind her eyes, complicated.

She started wiggling off another bite, and continued in tones that kept her mind grounded. _One thing at a time, Clairey_. "If I would claim that vampires jump from bed to bed in nightly orgies, what would be wrong with that statement?"

"Succubi, not vampires," Ben answered immediately. The nagging sensation in his skill faded instantly and his lips quirked. "Vampires might have orgies, but typically they mate for life and they don't like to share."

_Well, at least there's that._ Claire smirked back at him around her fork, which slid from her lips and pointed at his pastry. "Haven't touched your pie."

He took up his fork without further prompting, slicing through a large bite and putting it smoothly between his lips. The flavors hit him in all their delicious euphoria and he barely resisted closing his eyes to further enjoy them.

"I take it you're not into modern gothic literature," he said around a mouthful.

"Not unless I have to be," she answered casually, watching him with a new, clarified perspective. So he was a Hunter, and logic dictated they were working the same job. That didn't explain why she had his face previously mapped out in her memory before ever having met him. So... she took a leap of faith.

"I'm Claire."

Ben bit his lip for the briefest moment. Did he lie, or tell her the truth? What were the chances she'd find him again?

"Ben," he said, reaching for his coffee to take a swallow from it. It had started going cold. "How far into things are you?"

_Ben_. Claire filed that away, and cross referenced it with any distinct memory that might match the name with the face. Again, the attempt left her unsatisfied; she stabbed quietly at a corner of her pie crust and lathed it in whip cream.

"Been here six days," she answered quietly. "Two days after I arrived, the police picked up Mr. Riley. Unfortunately, Detroit's Finest aren't attributing three other minor burglaries _since_ to the connection." She'd been listening on the scanner. "I've been on the damned thing's tail for the last, and just _barely_ got out of being nabbed myself."

Ben's brows furrowed just a little at her use of the singular. "There's no way it's only one," he said slowly. "The times on the surveillance tapes are too close. They're within minuets of each other, so unless the sucker has a teleporter, it's gotta be at least two."

Claire shook her head a little, not because she disagreed with his logic, but more by skeptical habit. She propped her cheek with one loose fist, bent from the table, and poked at her pie with the other-to the casual observer, the pair looked like they could be discussing politics or gas prices (which were fucking criminal, by the way). "You ever seen two shifters _get along_, let alone work with each other?"

So it was a shifter. Or as it was, shifters. He'd had an inkling, given the fact that there hadn't been any real leads on any one person up until the last hit, and Kim's dad had said in his report that he had never been at that convenience store before ever. The print from the camera -flare in the eyes and all- had said differently, though. Ben frowned.

"Never seen two shifters around at the same time, period," he replied with lift of his shoulders, eyes pointed down as he slowly devoured the piece of pie. "Don't change the fact that there's no way it's just one of 'em. It's either two shifters or two of somethin' else."

The logic made sense, all save for the general _extreme_ territorialism that usually categorized the creatures. "I found two skins," she added thoughtfully, looking up from her last bite of pie. "It's definitely shifters-on the same turf, and apparently not tearing each other a part." _Fantastic._

"Hey, s'not like things can get any weirder, right?" Ben offered, arching one brow as he looked up and gave her a crooked sort of smile. He finished the rest of his pie a few bites after she did, then drained his glass. Three cups of black coffee in less than an hour. He'd need to go run or something to get all the energy off, or Kim was going to think he was tweaking out.

As though summoned by his thoughts, his pocket vibrated and chimed with an incoming text message. Ben pulled it out, flipping the phone open to read the little screen.

** Wrk til 6p. Called in. CU7?**

He quickly replied in a similar fashion that he'd meet her wherever he chose and to be careful, then closed up the phone again and tucked it back into his pocket.

Claire hadn't reacted much to his commiserative quip about how weird their relative lives could be, only continued to chew, then smirked after her smile. _Father, grant me the strength to cope with the world you have veiled from the rest of your Flock_. The thought came automatic, like a mantra-one that popped in her thoughts on a nightly basis, or whenever else she was able to snag a few hours of sleep.

She turned her attention to her own coffee, now just this side of lukewarm. Unglossed lips left no mark on the side when she kissed it for a sip, then set it down. "Is 'Kim' a poker contact?"

Again, that brief flare of color expanded across his cheeks and faded again. He avoided looking up at her. "Kim is Max's daughter," Ben explained. He deliberately left off the part about how they'd dated for eight months. Either Claire would get it, or it wasn't any of her business.

The explanation was enough for her, though the curtness of his reply hinted at something beneath it. He showed the same subtle tension when she'd first pegged him for a fake fed. "How long you been here?" she asked, mulling over her own ideas of how he got chummy enough with a subject's daughter to have her in his phone.

At the question, he turned to look at the large wall clock hanging over the back counter.

"Uhh... four hours? Give or take."

Claire made an involuntary noise, like half a laugh. "You make friends quickly."

Ben smirked. "It's a gift," he said easily, leaning back in his seat. At one point the waitress came back to take their plates and refill their mugs again, but she didn't stay to ask any real questions about their service. Ben once again picked up his mug and drank on automatic, getting his $2.50 worth.

_Uh-huh_, she wanted to say, but stayed silent. Ten bucks and two pieces of pie said he knew 'Kim' before this whole thing went down. In fact, that reminded her-Claire dug into her back jeans pocket to produce a wrinkly ten dollar bill, and placed it under her dirty plate to cover the tab and tip. Ben had already pre-paid for the coffee, since he'd only planned on buying the one thing.

"Well Ben, seems my afternoon's opened up a little-I have a few things I need to catch up with." It still nagged at her that he looked so extremely familiar to her. Claire was anticipating another few hours on the laptop back at the church before staking out a possible next-target.

One hand moved to the messy twist of pale waves gathered at the crown of her hair, where a cheap pen was anchored. Claire grabbed a napkin and wrote a number on it, then slid it his way. Ben blinked down at the number in muted surprise but took it, staring down at it. It was an Illinois area code. He knew because he'd been there not two months prior. His mother had been okay with his hunting, so long as it never took him more than a day to drive in any one direction; any more than that and she'd been too worried.

"Call me after you speak with his kid," Claire commented, pushing her arms through the sleeves of her jacket, then rearranged the long pieces of hair that were caught in the process. _God's soldiers should keep with each other_, despite how solitary she knew - from experience - they all had to be. If there _were_ two shapeshifters at this, she was glad she wasn't trailing them alone. "I think I know the next place."

His brows shot up but he didn't say anything, just nodding in answer. It was a huge show of trust to be giving him her number; it would take nothing at all for him to get her GPS activated and track her, and he knew she knew that. He watched her retreating form for a few moments longer, his eyes drawn to the detailed design on the back left pocket of her jeans, before she was out of sight.

Had they just became partners on this? Befuddled, Ben quickly downed the rest of his coffee and quickly started packing up.

* * *

><p>There was a visible stutter through the club as the DJ abruptly went from one song to the next, one nearly a beat slower than the other. The dancing masses didn't seem to mind, though, bumping and gyrating along with the house music. Though the air conditioner was working hard, spewing frozen sour air out into the room, sweat seemed to dampen every forehead, the air thick with body odor and alcohol.<p>

A young man with brown, sun-kissed hair sat sprawled on a bar stool with a beer in hand. He looked out over the crowd without really seeing, looking half asleep. He seemed to be the only person there who wasn't at least tapping along to the beat.

Squirming through the crowd, a woman with dyed-blond hair squeezed against the bar next to him. She shot him a wide smile before turning to the bartender and mouthing her order for two beers.

Cocking his head slightly, the man shifted to put two fingers on the table, walking them towards her. When his fingers hit her elbow, he spread them slightly, before humping them against her arm. She looked over at him, then down, then burst out laughing. Grinning, he leaned back against the bar.

"I'm Jesse."

"Layla," she replied, flipping her hair over her other shoulder and exposing the long, tanned column of her neck. A butterfly tattoo was visible on the spot where her neck and jaw met, just visible behind her dangling silver earring. "Don't think I've seen you here before."

"No, just got in," he said, a slight twist of an accent to his words. "Detroit's proving to be a disappointment so far, though. Most of it, at least." He shot her a grin.

She bit her bottom lip at his addendum, then flashed him a flirty sort of smile. A flash of silver appeared between her teeth -the sure sign of a tongue ring- before it disappeared again. After the bartender returned with the two beers, she took them up in her hands and tilted her head a little.

"Y'wanna dance with us?"

"Who's us? You and your two friends?" he said, raising an eyebrow and pointing at her chest. "Because I'd be up for that."

She laughed again at his joke, then turned to lift one beer in the direction of the crowd. Not too far off was a lovely little redhead wearing a halter top that barely left her decent, her answering raised wrist adorned in at least six bangles that caught the club lights and refracted them everywhere.

Layla smiled over her shoulder at him as she headed back into the crowd. Hesitating just a moment, Jesse headed after her with a small smile. In the middle of the crowd, the music was too loud to make any kind of conversation. Not that talking seemed to be on either woman's mind. They wasted no time in sandwiching him between them, easily falling into the a-typical bump and grind that a club brought out of a sleezy girl. The redhead took it one step further by reaching around him to put her hand on Layla's hip, forcing them all closer and eliminating any real chance for actual dancing.

Jesse moved along with them with relaxed ease. As he took a deep drink of his beer, he slid his free hand to Layla's hip, his fingers twining with the redhead's.

"The hell's goin' on here!" came a sudden voice off to the left.

Out of the press of lithe bodies another young man appeared, moving toward them with purpose and fire in his eyes. Layla immediately stiffened up in response and started to pull away.

"We were just dancing, Devon-" she started to say, but Devon ignored her, grabbing her free arm and yanking her out of the way. A few of the other dancers around them shied back, expecting a fight.

"Keep your damn hands off my girlfriend," Devon growled out, crowding Jesse's personal space and glaring daggers into him.

"Whoa there, mate," Jesse said, holding up a pacifying hand. His smile was cajoling and not the least bit worried. "It's fine. Your girlfriend was just being friendly. No reason to get upset."

"_Friendly_? Fucker, I'll show you _friendly_.." Devon slammed both stiffened hands into his shoulders, shoving him backward into the redhead who stumbled a few steps back into another body.

Jesse's expression hardened. He stepped forward, just inches from Devon. "Listen," he said, his voice sharp. "You _will_ shut up. You _will_ calm down. And since you made me spill the rest of my beer, you _will_ go to the bar and get me a new one." He punctuated this by shoving his glass at the guy.

All Devon's thoughts, rancid anger, and insecurities evaporated, and left his eyes and face as a blank slate. The only glimmer behind his eyes for those first few milliseconds were the words that'd just been spoken-_ordered_ at him. Suddenly that was the only thing he could focus on. The larger man's hands went lax at his sides, and the focus flashed back in his gaze, directed down at the beer bottle rolling toward the DJ booth. Then back up to the man he was recently ready to kill: "Hey, man-my bad, my bad!" He smiled, though it was a little off-kilter; his hands lifted, showing both palms. "I'ma get you another, don't wander too far."

With that, and no more words, Devon turned for the bar.

Breathing a little harder than normal, Jesse looked around, getting quite a few stares back. He hesitated a moment and then turned to take the redhead's hand, pulling her close. As people around them went back to their business, he smiled. "So, where were we?"

* * *

><p>"Punctuality is a virtue."<p>

Claire jangled her wrist to twist the cheap and too-loose watch back in place-it had a tendency to flip around the wrong way. The last twenty minutes went by at a snail's pace, sitting alone in the front seat of a road-tested GTO from the mid seventies, until Ben finally slipped into the passenger seat.

"Sorry," he muttered, putting a small bag at his feet and strapping in his seatbelt before he flashed her a small but sheepish smile. He didn't offer any other explanation and simply nodded his head in the direction of the road. "Let's go."

That sheepish smile was returned with one of her own, though Claire's was much more kin to that of a Sunday school teacher scolding a tardy ten-year old. The expression was short-lived, broken by the turn of her keys, and the throaty growl of the refurbished engine. She eased into the Tuesday evening traffic, lead by the blinker of course.

"I've been mapping the places hit since I got here, but I'm probably missing a lot. Not a whole lotta reason behind anything besides being fairly low-key and always being closed at night," she explained, and flicked her eyes toward him in the dim dashboard light. A pang of curiosity was definitely there, about what had made him late. The better look she got, the more she recognized it; the subtle glaze behind his eyes, the heavier posture. Could've been a mirror, far as she was concerned. "There's a six pack'a Mountain Dew in the back seat."

Ben groaned in gratitude, having already unsnapped his belt by the time she'd finished 'six pack.' He grabbed the lot of them and brought them into the front seat, resting them in his lap as he tugged a can from its plastic ring prison. With a metal snap and a distinct hiss, he started chugging it down. The can was half empty before he finally pulled back for a breath.

"Thank you." He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth, his eyes briefly going out the window. "I've got at least eight in the city. I found two more after I got back that matched the MO." Claire nodded, ducking toward the dash to read the next street sign.

"Last one was an Applebee's?" She looked at him again for confirmation.

"A waitress and a closing manager," he said with a nod. "They haven't been located yet, but the names on the report are Martha Weatherby and Austin Scottsdale." Ben finished off the can and crushed it against his knee. He couldn't deny feeling worried about why their bodies hadn't been accounted for.

Good, they were on the same page for sure, which eased Claire's anxiety to it's usual dull edge. She shook her head a little, easing into the right turn lane of a busy intersection. "I had the waitress in the storage rooms-_thought_ I had her pinned, 'course that was before I knew there was more than one." A little frustration cut into her eyes. Claire was still chastising herself for not allowing the possibility sooner. "The other had to have been the one to lock me in the hallway."

Ben turned to look at her with surprise in his eyes. "Is this before or after the diner just now?"

He hoped it was before, if only because he would feel horrible for not having been there to be her back-up. Two against one was always nasty; she was lucky she was only locked in a hallway and not killed or made the next flavor of the week.

"Two days ago," she confessed with no small amount of lingering disdain for the incident. "Had to worm through the frickin' air vent before they made _me_ a scapegoat-" Claire reached across the bench seat for one of the cans sitting against his thigh, and twisted it away from it's plastic. Ben froze for a brief instant, then relaxed and let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

"I swear, I still smell like fried onion and smoke."

He cracked a smile at her. "Nah, you're fine."

After bracing the can against her leg and cracking the top with a fingertip, she returned his smile with a small one of her own in the light of faint gratitude. In her years of doing what they did, she - like most others she'd met - had a way of focusing on fun details to drown out the too-close-calls. She hadn't been thinking of it at the time, but as her one target slipped away from her, the other had closed the door behind her-she wasn't only trapped, but surrounded and outnumbered. That could've ended so much worse.

Three alleys down their next cross street, Claire pulled into a mostly-vacant parking lot. The dark but unmistakable symbol of a Gold's Gym dominated the large picture window facing the street-but she eased the cherry red beast behind the side-street dumpster so they had a clear view of the plain metal back door. Ben immediately reached for the bag at his feet, tugging it up into his lap and pulling out a small hand-held digital recorder. It was on and open in an instant.

Ben unsnapped his seatbelt, leaning forward so he could balance the recorder on the dash and point it so it was in the right direction. After adjusting the zoom, all that was left was the fun part: Waiting.

_Father, keep my mind and eyes open..._ Claire thought to herself with a gaze through the windshield, her fingers flexing by reflex, kinking the soda can. _...no more traps._

A moment of silence went washed down with a few quiet gulps of warm carbonation, then Ben had her soft attention once again. Several hours of acquaintance had yet to produce a reason why he was so familiar. Maybe he just had 'one of those faces,' but that theory was bunk-especially with her memory.

"You wanna know the real reason I followed you?"

Ben's lips quirked slightly, but he kept his expression mostly even as he kept his eyes trained on the viewing panel of the recorder. A couple smartalicky responses jumped to mind, but it was going to be a long night and he still didn't know her well enough to make those sorts of jokes.

"Sure."

Claire squared her shoulders a little more toward him, unsatisfied with all the side-long looks. The new angle only confirmed everything she knew whenever she got a purposefully good look at him.

"I know your face," she said with one corner of her lips pulled into her cheek. She knew how it sounded, but there was no better description she could come up with, however much she tried. "I know we've never met-I would remember. But I still know your face."

The lingering smile around his features faded. He'd never met her in his life, and he had no idea why he would look familiar to her, but he had a pretty good idea how find out.

"How'd you get into the business?"

Claire's lips pressed into a straight line, and she settled back against the vinyl, facing out. This conversation, no matter who was telling it, was never an easy one. Of course, she never shared such with anyone outside of the well shadowed network she had built over the last several years. There had been little need for it, otherwise.

She released a breath through her nose, slightly heavier than normal. "My father and I are Vessels." There was so much more to that story, but their kind were always stingy with details of certain things-at least until a measure of trust had been achieved. She trusted Ben enough to extend her contacts to him, to work together on this endeavor. Further than that would take time.

His gaze finally drifted to her, his eyes widening slightly. He'd learned about vessels from the books Carver Edlund had written. The ones that helped him learn more about his father.

Ben couldn't remember the man, for all that his mother had shown him pictures from a year he didn't remember living. It had been the vague memories from his childhood that had come back to him while reading the books that had him asking his mother who Dean Winchester was in the first place.

He'd spent then next year chasing a ghost, only to find nothing. No trace, no news, and no answer every time he'd tried to call him on the last known number his mother had. For all he knew, Dean was dead. His one lead - a man named Bobby Singer, who his mother gave him the address to - had already passed on, and the salvage yard was nothing more than a graveyard of rusted out cars.

"Yeah?" he prompted. Such a short explanation didn't really give him any insight into her story.

Claire nodded, watching the door with her own eyes while the recorder watched through a lens and an LED screen. In her mind's eye, she vividly pictured the bright blue eyes of her father, turned toward her from the walk in front of their porch, speaking in a voice that wasn't his. Perfect detail in memory, always in the back of her mind-but she was actually focusing on it right then.

The can in her hand made a hollow noise again, under her fingertips. "The angel has him, somewhere around the world. I've been tracking him as best I could since I was fourteen." She looked across the seat to Ben once more, and once more was tormented by the known lines and angles of his face. Like something she'd seen in a dream. She swallowed thinly, then went back to watching the gym door. "I haven't seen him since."

When her eyes connected with his Ben averted his gaze, a frown twisting on his mouth. Their stories were so alike that it made him want to shiver.

"I'm looking for my dad, too," he said quietly. He huffed a breath of a laugh, then shook his head sadly. "I knew him once, when I was a kid. But I can't remember anything. Mom told me... there was an angel who came and healed my soul, whatever the hell that means. He took my memories away. It's kinda fucked up, actually." His expression grew solemn. "It was against my will. He didn't even _ask_ me." Claire pressed her lips together tightly, rolling them in thought.

Then, they turned up in a very vague, very colorless smile. "I gotta admit-I see the appeal."

"Yeah well, I don't," Ben scowled, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's no better than being possessed by a demon, what he did to me."

"I'm not saying it was right," she started back, sipping from the can before going on. Her voice lowered a few shades. "I just know _I've_ seen a lot I wish I couldn't remember."

"We're lucky nothing else came after us," Ben said with righteous anger. "Dad was a hunter. Probably one of the best. But he abandoned us. What wouldda happened if the angel took my mom's memories too, and then something came and tried to killed us? We wouldda had no idea what was going on, or how to stop it." Ben clenched his jaw and looked out the window. "I thought angels were supposed to do God's work. How's taking away my memories of my dad s'pose to do be helpful, huh? Answer me that."

Claire just looked at him for a moment, her expression almost completely neutral. When she finally looked back out the windshield, her nostrils flared with a longer sigh than usual. "Someone once told me 'Man is too volatile to understand God's plan. Only be a part of it.'" She shifted in her seat, suppressing a little flare of tension that bloomed through her chest. "Right after I found my mother dead in her own bathtub-a demon made her slice every major artery she could get to."

Ben felt his stomach twist up and a wave of sickness settle in his chest. He felt ashamed getting in such a fit over lost memories when Claire had experienced something so awful. He couldn't even bring himself to look over at her.

"I'm sorry."

Claire was silent for a moment, but shook her head faintly, dismissing his apology. It wasn't needed.

"We're all a part of something bigger; most of us never even have a glimpse of it." She took another drink, finishing off the can. "I think we can agree they are the lucky ones."

Ben chewed the inside of his cheek but didn't say anything. Ignorance might've been bliss, but he didn't like the idea of people not knowing how to defend themselves. It was why he hunted as he searched. He took a gulp from his Mountain Dew silently, eyes back on the building they were staking out.

"What's your dad's name?" Claire asked out of quiet curiosity. She'd met many in the life, and in the light of their common ground of missing fathers, maybe there was a slim chance she could help Ben. Maybe she'd met him before.

"Winchester," Ben uttered, his voice pitched low. "Dean Winchester."

Claire felt like all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. Her chest stilled and felt heavy, her eyes unfocused on the middle distance before they turned up toward the roof of the car, when her lips parted for a deep breath that she sorely needed. She could see his face, _so easily_, with the same ease as her own father's features. His brother as well: the two men who'd followed Jimmy Novak back to their Pontiac home, who were there when her life was turned upside down and inside out. Ben looked up sharply at the noise. All the color had left her face.

"Hey, breathe," he prompted, authority eking into his voice. His arm went up to slap her on the back, but Claire's snapped to action in base instinct and pinned his to the dash before he could touch her. Ben's eyes widened further. Then, and only then, did she actually push out a startled, shaky breath.

"Sorry..." she managed to mutter and immediately let his hand go. Claire cleared her throat of the thickness that seemed to strangle it, and looked down at the seat between them. "I've met your dad, and your uncle." Her eyes finally lifted to him, wavering with her own form of apology. "They were with my dad before he left for good."

It was his turn to blanch.

Ben wasn't the type of man to believe in fate. Fate had never done him any favors, and the only faith he had - to humanity - hadn't exactly been all that rewarding either. Sometimes he could give a nod to coincidence, and he'd began to rely on luck since he'd barely managed to keep his head above the water in both his living situations and the hunts he'd picked up along the way, but fate? Fate was what his mom used to tell him about when he asked her questions about why things happened the way they did.

Ben wasn't so sure he could discredit fate anymore. He stared at Claire in wide-eyed wonder, pale as a sheet and wondering why, oh why, had he asked her to sit with him in that diner. There would be no ridding himself of her now.

Just by the way he openly stared, Claire could tell the answers to all the questions she had for him, knowing her own tenacious research had barely turned up little more than fragile footprints in a low-tide area, would go unsatisfied. Still, she couldn't help the hard line of comfort she felt at the miraculous connection. It was terrifying and rejuvenating at the same time. He was white with shock, as she was sure she'd been like not thirty seconds ago. Claire wouldn't - couldn't - torture him like that.

"Funny little world, huh." She gave him a small, but genuine smile. The compassionate urge to grab his hand and squeeze was strong, but she bit it back.

Ben gave a laugh he didn't quite feel, scrubbing his face with his hands.

"Yeah, hilarious," he muttered. Ben took the opportunity to turn his eyes back on the digital recorder again, if only so he had something else to look at beside her. A bit of movement inside immediately caught his intention and he leaned forward, his eyes skimming over the device to look straight out the window instead. Claire's eyes instantly snapped on the same thing Ben watched.

The metal door had opened, maybe an inch or two-enough for someone to peek through. Claire went still. When Ben caught her movement out of the corner of his eye, his gaze moved back down to the viewing panel.

There was a very clear, very definite glare of white coming from the eyes of the head that appeared in the space of the door.

"Jackpot."

"No cars around for a block," Claire whispered, eyes fixed on the pair. "Wherever they're going, it's on foot."

"If we follow them, we might be able to find their lair," Ben whispered back, though a small part of him wondered why they were whispering in her car when the windows were rolled up and they were on the opposite side of the street. He frowned slightly in thought.

"Though... if we start the car now, they'll hear it."

"Then I guess I'm not starting the car," she said dryly, and patted the small bulge of keys in her jacket pocket. Ben flushed but didn't say anything, rapidly putting the camera back into the bag and pushing both underneath the seat. The shifters wandered, casual as ever, toward the walk that lead to the main street. The second their back was turned, Claire squeezed the door handle to it's soft click.

* * *

><p>The prior night's attempt had resulted in failure as he and Claire had tracked the two shapeshifters leaving the gym, but only because they hadn't been fast enough; they hadn't been spotted. It was easy to guess what their next target would be, once Ben and Claire exchanged notes. Their predictability should have been a huge giveaway to the cops, but their lacking ability to pin any two people down to the string of robberies was the only thing in their favor. When they'd walked into the little clothing store the following afternoon, dressed as employees coming in from their lunch break, Ben and Claire had been waiting for them. A quick glance up at the safety camera monitors had tipped them off. They'd been in chase for at least ten minutes. Ben was actually a little surprised that Claire managed to keep up, given her small stature, but in the brief moment when she'd been in the lead he couldn't help notice that she had legs that went on forever.<p>

Now, however, was not the time to properly admire that.

His lungs felt like they were on fire, but he was determined to pin down at least one of the shapeshifters before having to reach for his gun. He didn't want to have to fire out in the open; the gunshot would cause alarm and police would be called, which was too much damn trouble. They were gaining on them, even after they'd split off and separated. It could be handled.

Or at least, that's what he thought until he saw which way they were heading. A large, open-air rock festival had spread out over the city square they'd exploded into. If he didn't get his hand on at least one of them before they reached the crowd, it would be all for nothing.

"You sonofabitch, _stop!_" he hollered, reaching out for what appeared to be the female of the two, but his fingers only brushed against the fabric of her hoodie.

Apparently these two had the foresight to nab the shape of local track stars; Claire hated running, and _especially_ hated running the back alleys of Detroit after a cold rain. The shifters had split off at a T-section three blocks back, and against her better judgment, she and Ben had split off after them.

The 'male' kept throwing glances over his shoulder, and Claire swore she caught the hint of a satisfied grin in his profile. Every time she got within grabbing distance, his pace picked up _just enough_. It didn't take long for the notion to set in.

_He's toying with you._

Claire hesitated when her target veered around the alley corner. The prick of instincts seemed to make her legs a little heavier with the conscious anticipation of an ambush. The brick bit into her jacket and pulled at the loose pieces of her hair as she neared the blind intersection, intent on listening for footsteps or the dangerous _lack_ of them. Unfortunately, her hard, burning breaths were drowned by the sound of a crowd. Claire peeked around the corner cautiously, then felt her face get tight at what she saw.

"...oh, _Hell_."

The female disappeared between two bodies, still running, and Ben growled out in frustration but refused to give up chase.

"Move! Move!" he shouted, trying to disperse the crowd. A few lurched out of the way, but he still managed to slam into a few shoulders on his dash to follow.

Getting further and further ahead, the female shot a glance back and ended up barrelling head on into a tall young man.

Jesse stumbled back, swearing. He probably would have gone over if it weren't for the press of the crowd.

"Hey!" he snapped, seeing the pretty, slim woman right herself.

"Sorry, sugar," she said with a smile before taking off.

Frowning, Jesse, checked himself, and froze when he found an empty back pocket.

"My wallet!" He bolted into the crowd. "Move! HEY! MOVE!"

Ben watched the crowd instantly part ahead with shock, though they were quickly refilling the space once the other man sped through them. With a grunt of effort, Ben pushed himself even harder, calling on every ounce of reserved energy left in him.

Even with the crowd's help, the woman was slippery, and they were near the end of the square when Jesse finally caught her arm. She jerked around with a snarl, but Jesse wasn't there for pleasantries.

"Give the wallet back, now!" he snapped.

The woman's hand obeyed immediately, though her eyes looked down at it in shock. Jesse didn't care, taking it with a scowl.

Ben nearly ran straight into them in his haste, just barely catching the exchange in time. His mouth fell open like a dead fish and his eyes went wide. _What the hell!_

It took him a few seconds to reboot his brain, and when he did he quickly shouted, "Grab her!"

Jesse looked up and the woman tried to jerk away, but he gripped her tight on instinct. With another snarl, she punched him in the nose. His head snapped with a crack and he stumbled, letting go of her.

"Goddammit!" Ben snarled, managing to burst forward just in time to throw an arm around the shifter's neck and yank her back into him hard. Already the crowd was responding to the violent scuffle, and somewhere a voice shouted out to call for security.

_No, no, no, **no!**_ Ben panicked inwardly, trying desperately to drag the shifter to the ground. If the police were called, he wasn't sure there'd be a way to keep her in his scopes, and there was still Claire and the other one to worry about.

Still bleary-eyed but his bloody nose already stopped, Jesse stared at the tousle. He'd thought the voice that called to him had been security, but this guy was definitely not.

"Whoa, mate, what're you doing?" he said. "If she took something, just ask for it back!"

"It ain't about takin'-" he was cut off when the shifter threw her elbow into his ribs, sending all the air out of his lungs and momentarily making him lose his hold. She managed to get back to her feet again before he swept her legs out from under her and pinned her down.

Claire's chase had been futile the moment she rounded that corner-the male was gone, melted into the crowd she filtered through for the last five minutes, until the sounds of commotion drew her attention... along with just about everyone else. She cut through the crowd on the intuitive gut instinct that'd kept her alive for so long, and busted into the blob of space surrounding Ben and the other shifter.

"S'okay, folks," Claire suddenly belted at the crowd around them; one hand produced a fabricated badge from her back pocket, complete with leather casing. _Get a'hold of her, dammit._ She showed it quickly to the onlookers, who reacted as most did when faced with any symbol of legit authority; gaping looks and sometimes a step back. Over their shoulder, the line of festival bouncers were wading through. Claire shoved the badge into her pocket and jumped into the fray, helping Ben get the female to her feet-with a discreet silver blade against her kidney. "Less of a scene you make, the better..."

As soon as Jesse saw the badge, he shifted back. Clearly this was some sort of take down and had nothing to do with him. He had his wallet and his nose had already mended, so no need for him to stick around. Except his band hadn't been up yet. Wiping at some of the blood on his upper lip, he decided to clean up and then finagle his way backstage. It'd be safer back there anyway.

With a last look at the oddly young cops, he disappeared into the crowd

* * *

><p>There was no way they could do what they were planning to do at either the church or Ben's hotel, so with limited options they shoved the shifter into the trunk and started driving out of town. Her shouts were relentless and never-ending, and no amount of blaring Black Sabbath would drown her out. Ben scowled in frustration as he drove them out of the city limits, his eyes fixed on the road ahead of them.<p>

Claire focused on the halo of light she manipulated over the atlas spread across her lap. She'd bought one of those zoning maps her first day in-a habit, just in case she needed to know where the non-residential districts were in a hurry. Of course, it wasn't hard to find such areas in Detroit. Half the city was already an industrial ghost town. She just did it to cover the noise.

"Here should be good," she said solemnly, and pointed down a cracked asphalt road lined by a crumbling industrial park. Ben flipped on his blinker without verbally responding. The brief pause between songs made the next scream from the shifter so loud he winced. He was really looking forward to wasting her.

Once he found a good place to park he killed the engine, unclipping his seatbelt and reaching behind him to grab up his duffel and his gun. He knew from his research that shifters couldn't make themselves smaller, but they could definitely make themselves thinner, and they'd been on the road long enough that it would have given it plenty of time to change into another form.

"Ready?"

A very familiar prayer was underneath Claire's thoughts, as constant as it was comforting, whenever she was about to leap feet first. Ben's words were a cadence to it, and she looked at him, but was silent-all the confirmation he needed was in her eyes. On the next breath, which lingered on her lips, she stepped out of the car, gun in hand.

The trunk had gone silent, the crunch of their footsteps on the gravel the only noise. They approached slowly, and Ben shot a last look at Claire before throwing the trunk open, his gun aimed at the shifter's head. What he found were Claire's wide, blue eyes staring right back at him. The _real_ Claire made a small noise as her breath caught in her throat.

"Oh please God, save me!" Claire-in-the-trunk cried, her voice hitching.

There was a beat, and then she lashed out. Her hand jerked for Ben's gun while her foot kicked at Claire's. She wretched her hand back just a millisecond too late. Three fingers and the side of her thumb took the brunt of the sting, jarred against cobalt before the gun skidded across the gravel.

Ben, however, had been ready for it. With quite a bit of force, he flipped the shotgun in his hand and beaned her with the butt straight in the face. She fell back with a scream, already bleeding from a split in her forehead. She slid on the gore inside the trunk.

"Why can't you people just leave us alone?" she snarled.

"Shaddap," Ben spat back, shifting the gun in his hand so he could pass his bag over to Claire. She still looked shook up at the shifter's choice. Truthfully if he hadn't already been on an adrenaline high, he probably would have reacted similarly. As it was, the shifter was still wearing the hoodie from the city square. He was unimpressed.

A small part of Claire understood the possibility, but actually looking at a mirror copy of herself was a bit more jarring than she anticipated. Hand still stinging, she took Ben's bag and shouldered it, giving her doppelganger a good acidic glare as she bent down to get her gun.

Once Claire was upright again Ben reached in and grabbed the shifter firmly by the hair and the arms. The zip ties had held, but there was a quarter inch of room where there hadn't been before. He barely registered it, instead making a disgusted noise at the state of his trunk.

"Disgusting," he hissed, twisting the struggling shifter so that her back was to him and walking her -fighting him all the while- deeper into the abandoned building. "Y'know, changing your face just lost you some leverage, sweetheart. I'm gonna have to clean up that shit now."

Claire was very quiet, bringing up the rear behind him and the shifter with her gun poised and aimed at an angle to the floor. She hadn't had hopes on the outcome of this particular job, considering her research and only singular experience with one-but the thing had taken her shape. That made a big difference. Regardless of how insignificantly malicious this one - and its partner - may have been, she couldn't have it wandering around with her face. Or Ben's, for that matter. She turned a silent look over the parking lot before stepping into the dark warehouse behind them. _Father, forgive me._ It was just a matter of time.

"This is gonna go one of two ways," he said to the silent shifter, his eyes darting ahead to find somewhere to put her down. There was a support column in the middle of the room and he steered her toward it.

"Claire, get some rope outta my bag," he told her before continuing to speak to the shifter. "Like I was sayin'. You're gonna call your mate and while we wait for him to show up -assuming he's still a him at this point- we're gonna have a little chat about what it means to be a responsible citizen in this country."

"Oh _sure_, lemme just pull'im up on my phone-" the shifter sneered through corrosive sarcasm. Claire's normally quite serene-looking face was twisted tight with contempt and hatred, and she hissed when she connected forcefully with the pole. The original Claire wasted no time - _or effort_ - in lashing her there. The impostor sent her a side-long look in the process, grinning in one corner of her mouth. "Oooh, pretty fuckin' metaphorical, huh Clairey?"

Claire's jaw set, but she said nothing. The shifter scoffed and snickered.

"Don't make me slap the shit out of you, sweetheart," he told the shifter, his eyes fixated on her rather than looking at Claire. Once she was secure, he pulled out his phone and opened it.

"Give me the number," he ordered.

"Why the fuck should I?"

Ben brought his rifle back up to her face and glared. "Either cooperate or I kill you. Pick one." The shifter went a little stiff, but her stare remained equally cold. The real Claire Novak stared silently on.

"You got silver shells in that monster, Benny?" Getting shot in the face would sting like a motherfucker, but it wouldn't kill her. The shifter was unimpressed, but her sneer mostly evaporated when Claire suddenly moved, and a solid, burning silver butterfly knife made it's presence known between her third and fourth rib. Ben connected eyes with her briefly before turning back on the shifter again.

"Never said it was gonna be a quick kill," he retorted, giving her an ugly smile. "I got silver buckshot. Might not kill ya, I've never tried it before, but it'll definitely make me feel better about havin' to clean up your pond scum." He paused. "So what's your choice?"

The carbon-copy flared her nostrils and tried to squirm away from the blade tip pushing through her hoodie, then swallowed thickly. "882-555-8750..."

Ben dialed the number, keep the gun aimed aimed at her face. The moment he pressed the 'send' button he flipped it over to speaker. It rang twice before someone answered.

"Where the fuck are you, motherfucker!" an angry male voice shouted.

"Language," Ben said in a condescending tone. "There are women present."

"I'll _KILL_ you-!"

"D'you really wanna say that when I've got your mate tied up and lookin' down the barrel of my gun, Billy Bob?" Ben interrupted.

"Its just the two of'em, Baby!" the shifter shouted at the phone. "Some fucker an'the bitch from the Applebees-OW!" Claire 'accidentally' let her knife twitch.

"That's right, just us and the missus," Ben chimed in. "All we're missin' is you and then we've got enough people for Candyland! Y'mind picking up some Diet Dr Pepper on your way, honey?"

"Where are you?" the angry voice on the phone demanded.

"Wow, you've really got _no_ manners at all? Did your mother raise you in a barn?" Ben asked, brows arched at the shifter borrowing Claire's face. "We're in the industrial park on the edge of town heading north. You've got one hour to get here, or we'll kill your mate."

Ben didn't wait for a response, promptly hitting the 'end call' button before turning the phone off altogether. Once the phone was pocketed he turned his gaze back on the shifter in front of him.

"Now. Tell me: Why y'gotta go stealin' from everybody and doin' lord knows what to your loaners?" She leered at him with no lack of rancor that made her half-grin poisonous.

"What? Like _you_ don't steal a little somethin' now and then?"

"I hussle," he countered. "There's a difference. You ruin people's lives; Normal, innocent people, so you can what... buy the newest Toyota hybrid? Eat at a fancy restaurant? We wouldn't come huntin' folk like you if you didn't act like fuckin' heartless monsters."

"S'all a matter of _perspective_, isn't it?" Impostor Claire snickered coldly. "This world's just what you can cut out of it-and I know for a fuckin' _fact_ that _you two_ are reeeeally good at mental gymnastics." She pressed her lips together and notched a brow, mocking the same expression Claire often used while at the diner. "Force yourself to believe something hard enough-nothing else matters."

"Bullshit," Ben said flatly. "If that was the way of it, there'd be mass chaos. Don't like you aren't doin' this out of anything less than selfishness and spite." He lowered his gun and crouched so as to be level with her face. "You could easily go out there and get a job like a normal person. It don't matter what you are: it matters what you _do._ Every choice you make has a consequence. If me'n my friend hadn't caught you, someone else would've."

The shifter outright laughed; a sound that was just barely this side of sanity. "A _normal person_? Check the mirror, Ben'N'Jerry's. Ain't no room for normal with some people, and _you two_ know that better than any."

Ben was really getting sick of the nicknames, but he didn't flinch. It was pointless to try and argue with a creature who changed its face every day of the week.

"So what you're saying is, you've got no intention of changing?" he prompted.

The slightly maniacal grin on Shifter-Claire's face suddenly cooled, though it was definitely still present. A beat past, when she just held his eyes before she went on in equally chilly tones.

"What is it _exactly_ you want us to do?"

"Stop stealin', stop makin' trouble, and assimilate," he said. "Simple as that. You've got a mate, and that's half the rat race. Everything else should be easy for you."

The shifter was quiet for another beat, but so was the original Claire, standing half a step behind her, watching the exchange with a chilly detachment. The Claire tied to the pole then warmed her grin, paying perfect attention to Ben. "Well now, that doesn't seem _too_ bad, does it..."

His eyes narrowed at her. "Don't patronize me, sweetheart. I'm giving you the choice. If you just tell me what you think I wanna hear, you're gonna be tasting Claire's knife. Count on it."

"And who's face am I s'posed to wear, huh Benji?" she said, tilting her head. "You gonna let me wear this little angel while I put on a pantsuit and go to work like a good little girl? You don't know shit about us, what it's like. You think it's so easy? Then you _ass_imilate."

"Pick someone dead, then, I really don't care," he said flatly. "I know you can."

"You really don't fuckin' get it," she said, leaning her head back with a laugh. "It ain't like we were born runnin'. We tried the normal way, but we ain't normal. Ain't ever gonna be normal. You say we're fuckin' over people's lives; we were fucked over just being born. Normal ain't something we can pretend, no more than you." Her eyes fixed on his, giving a smirk. "So why don't you stop pretendin' you were ever gonna end this any way but one."

That was all the prompting that the true Claire needed-it'd been drawn out long enough. Any more, and she ran the risk of succumbing to emotion that would only complicate the situation. She leaned in close from behind the beam the creature was tied to, smelling her own shampoo in the same exact hair-a surreal experience, to put it lightly, and not something Claire would count as 'easy'. She whispered low and even, in tones that could only traverse the tiny distance between her lips and the shifter's ear. "_God, forgive me. Go in peace._"

"Claire, don't-!"

Then Claire pushed the blade through fabric, skin and muscle, directly into the heart. The shifter only had enough time for her eyes to widen, a sharp breath cut short, before she sagged where she sat.

Ben stared for a moment in shock, his heart beating so hard and so loud that it temporarily drowned out all other sound. He hadn't been done yet; there was still other avenues to try, other points to push home, and then it had all been stolen away. He closed his eyes to stop from seeing the blankness in the shifter's dead eyes, turning away from the scene before he dared to open them again.

What he saw may as well have been a mirror of his expression on the other shifter's face, even if he hadn't borrowed it. Then there was only rage, and it started to rush him. Out of reflex Ben brought up his shotgun and fired it. A growled scream split the night right after the bark of the gun. The remaining creature lurched back with the blast's momentum, doubled over in blood and pain.

"...COCKSUCKING SONOVABITCH!" he howled, staggering forward and gaining speed.

Ben cursed and dodged, nearly falling over in his haste to get away. If it'd seen Claire stick the knife, though, there was no telling if he'd go after her first to avenge his mate or keep up chase after having been shot in the chest. He needed to be quick.

_Really should've just used a goddamn handgun,_ he thought manically, backtracking as quickly as he could to his car and hoping that he'd be followed.

The shifter didn't head after him, though, his head jerking around to Claire, and his mate's identical body. Snarling, he ducked behind a pillar. "Fuckin' coward!" he yelled, a hand pressed over his buckshot wounds. "You have your fun, huh, torturin' her before you kill her?"

Claire had gone cold, steeled in the grip of adrenalin. The moment Ben's gun blast had gone off, she'd exchanged her knife for the pistol holstered under her jacket. She eyed the pillar the thing used as a shield, gun raised. Besides the echo of her own blood in her ears and the scrape of grit under her feet, the night was still, and heavy. "She went quick," Claire replied to the dark, coldly honest.

"You also said you weren't gonna kill her for an hour, so fuck you!" Wincing, he pulled his revolver from the back of his pants, flipping off the safety. "Your pal's gone, honey, so you an' me are gonna take it nice and slow."

In one swift move, he shifted aside just enough to get a shot at towards her kneecaps. Pain ripped through the side of her thigh as the bullet cut clean through denim and muscle. Claire bore down on her own teeth, hissing through the burn. Not for the first time in her life, the urge to swear _almost_ left her lips.

"Took the wrong body," she snarled, one hand planted over the thick flesh wound-the other held fast to her weapon, as she too took shelter around the nearest pillar. "You knew how this would end!" _Father, keep me strong_ Claire'd had close calls, scratches, breaks, bruises and burns, but this was her first bullet. It hurt a Hell of a lot more than the movies made it look.

"So do you, darlin'," he said, peering carefully around his pillar to gauge the distance between them. "Hunters got no better endin's than us."

Pushing out fast, he made a run for her pillar, moving for the far side.

It was all the opening Ben needed. He took aim and shot, watching as the silver bullet entered the shifter through its back. It staggered, then fell with a heavy thud, blood slowly pooling outward. Ben took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

"Claire?"

"Here." Her voice was equally rasp and riddled with a tension that wasn't just nerves. She leaned her back heavily against the rusted out pole, her eyes fixated on the still body that'd fallen not three feet from where she was, her gun still held at the end of a rigid arm. The warm slickness beneath her palm throbbed with each heartbeat, searing with a sour heat. Ben trotted quickly over to his abandoned duffelbag, grabbing it up and heading in the direction of her voice. He found her within moments, his face going pale at the rush of blood oozing out around her fingers.

"Thank god for boy scouts," he muttered under his breath, dropping down next to her and diving into the bag once it was open to pull out his medkit. "Is it still in you?"

"Don't think so," she panted, then held her breath before it broke free again once more. Claire let her head thunk back against the pole, and she swallowed thickly, her eyes closed. "Still sucks."

"I know," he said. He moved her hand away and winced as the blood dribbled out even faster, tugging out his pocket knife from his breast pocket and sliding it into the small space, blade-side up. The knife was sharp enough to slice through the fabric like it was paper.

"Hold still, okay?" His voice had gone gentle, and the next move explained why: Claire felt a rush of fire expand outward as he poured peroxide over the wound to clean it, getting in close to make sure nothing had gotten past the top layer. She immediately went stiff, every muscle infused with molten metal, and her back arched from the strain of keeping everything else as still as possible.

"_Thaaaat_ sucked even more..." Her eyes were open again, but she only saw in shades of red and black until the peroxide started to bubble away. Fortunately, nothing appeared to be stuck in with the ripped bit of flesh and skin. Ben pulled out a small package and ripped it open, pressing it into the wound before finding her hand and pressing it against it.

"Put pressure on it," he told her, already going back to the kit to find a length of ace bandage to hold it in place.

"You were a boy scout?" she breathed through a slightly crooked grin, slowly regaining control of her muscles as the roar of pain dissolved into a good hard ache. Though the night was cold, the strain had left a sheen on her skin, and it felt like it was collecting every bit of grime in the dirty air.

"Mom made me," he explained away, though he didn't go into the details of it. It sounded a little embarrassing in hindsight.

"I got a sewing kit back at the church..." But she wasn't going to be able to drive for a day or two.

"Oh this'll be fun," he said with a hint of dryness mostly aimed at himself. "Never stitched a _person_ before."

"It's not that complicated," she promised. The adrenalin was coming down, and she was starting to feel the exhaustion that came with it.

He bit his lip, carefully taking the bandage and starting the slow but firm wrap around the gauze. He went silent for a few moments as he worked, keeping his eyes pointed downward.

"I wasn't gonna ditch you."

Claire had been watching the progress of her temporary bandage until that moment. She lifted her eyes to his face, even though he wasn't looking at her, his profile obscured by the occasional dark spear of dark hair. After a reflexive wince at another twinge in her leg, Claire looked back down at his hands. "I know you weren't."

"I've never done this with somebody else before," he admitted in the same quiet voice. She looked at him again.

"I'm not the first you've _met_ though..."

Ben kept quiet, carefully clipping the bandage in place. His hands were covered in her blood. It all made him feel a little sick. What were they going to do with the other bodies?

_Salt and burn 'em,_ came an answering thought. It wasn't in his own voice. He visibly shuddered.

"I'll help you to the car."

* * *

><p>Her room at St. Ireanus wasn't exactly four star accommodations; it was little more than a fold-away bed placed in the corner of one of the basement sitting rooms. There was a love-seat in front of one of those electric fireplaces, two book shelves full of scripture and donated books, and a toddler play table in the opposite corner. Everything had that mixed smell of stale coffee and dust, mixed with church candles and incense. It was a smell Claire found especially comforting.<p>

"Bathroom's off to the right, there," she mentioned with a huff, that last stair was slightly uneven and sent a vibration of discomfort through her leg, and up her spine. It melted away by pins and needles.

He adjusted his arm around her waist so that he could better help her, half-tempted to skip the hobbling and pick her up. She couldn't have weighed more than 110 pounds wet. Awkwardness was the only thing that kept him from doing so.

He caught the doorknob with his free hand once the were in range and twisted it open, giving it a nudge with his boot before he lead her through the door.

"Where's that sewing kit you mentioned?"

She eased, with his help, down to the side of the bathtub, using the edge of the sink for a bit more support. "In the duffel by the couch, far right pocket." First thing, Claire shrugged out of her jacket, then the police issue shoulder holster before wringing her hands under the tap.

Ben was only gone for a few moments, returning with the little kit and a silver-plated flask which he immediately unscrewed and offered to her wordlessly. Claire flicked the water off her hands and accepted it, then gave it a quick exploratory pass under her nose. She recoiled almost instantly, both eyes wide and watering.

"_Whoa!_ What in the world..."

"You're s'posed to drink it, not smell it," he said with a hint of amusement and a slight shake of his head, shifting on his feet. Before she had a chance to Ben took it, taking a swig as if to demonstrate before passing it back. He barely flinched.

"S'a family recipe. You're gonna need it."

_Family recipe, huh?_ Claire gave the thing a dubious look that transferred to him, though it was only skin deep. "So was turpentine." Still, she knew he was right. With a little hesitation, she set the small rim on her bottom lip and tossed a small swig back. Unfortunately a tiny bit actually touched her tongue. Her throat seized for a moment, and she blocked the cough with her forearm.

Ben gave her a sympathetic smile, putting the sewing kit on the lip of the bathtub so he could take off his shoes and socks and roll up his pant legs.

"Take a breath first, then hold your nose," he instructed gently as he stepped into the tub. Her eyes were still watery from the first swallow when they turned up to him. Her look clearly expressed how little faith she had that his proposed method was going to do anything for the taste of battery acid.

She cleared her throat and steeled for another swig, but not before conveying a quick opinion: "I think you burned your taste buds off." She twitched the flask back and forced down the gag reflex enough to swallow.

"Eh, sense of taste. Who needs it," he said dismissively. Once he was at a crouch in front of her he started to unravel the bandage. The gauze was soaked through by the time he exposed it. This was definitely not going to be fun.

"Not me, after this," her voice was rusty from the booze - at least she _hoped_ it was booze - for all she knew by the taste, he'd siphoned off an old diesel tractor and put it in a flask. At least the burn was helping to distract from the dull roar of pain throbbing from her thigh. The last layer of gauze peeled away, and Claire hissed in a sharp breath through her teeth and her free hand clawed into the shower curtain. That prompted another quick, deeper pull from the flask, and another small coughing fit.

Once the wound was exposed Ben took up the bottom of her pant leg, quickly and carefully rolling it upward. The added constriction as it gathered up her though would help lessen the blood flow, at least a little. This was _really_ going to suck.

"Talk to me," he encouraged her, opening up the sewing kit and working as fast as he could to thread the needle. Her answer was yet another cough after her third attempt to force his 'family recipe' down, blinking away the blur.

"Exactly how long did it take you to get used to this crap?" Claire's voice was tight again; tight from the liquor and tight from the pain. The tourniquet-like effect of her destroyed jeans amplified the way it throbbed, which amplified the heat radiating through the whole side of her body. She could die a happy woman if she never, ever got shot again. And she knew it could've been so much worse.

Ben gave a quiet laugh at the memory. "Me and my buddy Nick, summer after sophomore year of high school, spent three days fishin' and campin' over by Lake Michigan. I remembered watchin' my dad make up a batch once, so I thought I'd give it a go." He smiled a little. "I don't remember much outside of pukin' my guts out the next morning after day one, but lucky for me Nick brought a camera. Good times."

"Sign me up," she said dryly and forced another swallow. This time she didn't cough, but the delicate scattering of freckles across her nose were getting hot. Her lips and the tip of her nose were starting to tingle, as well-sure signs that whatever it was, it was working. She took a moment to focus on him. Subtle nuances of tension were obvious, but that was to be expected. Their last hour was something that would've scarred 'normal' members of society. Still, she made a mental note to stop putting the booze down-even though the flask was already on it's way back to her lips.

Once the needle was threaded Ben looked down at the wound again. It had already started to bleed. He swallowed, pausing to turn on the spigot before briefly taking the flask from her. He could almost taste her lips along the metal, something fruity like strawberries. He filed the thought away, reaching for the lighter in his breast pocket so he could sterilize the needle.

"You've really never done this before?" she asked, her voice cottoned by the subtle intoxication, but it was also gentle as the way she took the flask back, and set it upright on the sink ledge.

"Nope," he said simply. He'd sewn a few patches on to jeans and a leather jacket he'd worn until eating it on his bike once, but other than that his sewing had been limited to what he'd learned in scouts. Ben looked up through his lashes at her and gave her a crooked smile. "You're my first time. Be gentle with me."

The wolfish little grin was surprisingly disarming, considering what he'd just told her. Claire's nose wrinkled when she smiled back at him, and cleared her throat. "Let's try it the other way around..."

"You'd rather be on top?" he quipped, his smile only lengthening. In spite of herself - and a lot of thanks went to the booze - she snickered.

"A'least...lemme talk ya through it." If that was a pun, Claire didn't know or care. It sounded like one, but she still meant it, regardless of the very faint way her words had started to slow.

"Yes, ma'am," Ben replied, looking up at her again briefly before steadying his free hand on her skin. The sting that resulted caught her breath, but the messages were taking a little longer to reach her brain. She did feel a subtle warmth spread from under his palm. Thank Heaven for small favors.

"Kay, pinch the skin together," she actually did it with her own two hands, the pads of her cleaned fingers a few inches away from the gash, which was dripping thick crimson globules down the curve of her leg and into the tub. "Don-don'go too deep." Clair blinked, mulling and blushing over how she'd fallen into the apparent pun-war.

Ben bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything, but he did sneak a quick glance up at her. A blush had crept over her face, making a bridge from one cheek and across her nose to the other. Something squirmed in his stomach that had nothing to do with the hole in her leg. He took a breath and then let it out, then did as he instructed and pressed the point of the needle into the skin.

The familiar pinch sobered her up enough to remember to actually _brace_ for the next one. As the needle pushed through, trailing the sterile black string behind it, Claire tried to keep her breaths as steady as possible, but they still cut through her nose and shook a bit with obvious strain. Claire closed her eyes and leaned back against the shower wall; she tried conjuring one of her favorite songs to drown the growing agitation in her leg, the more it was poked, the more angry it became.

It felt like hours before he'd finally managed to seal up the cut. Several times he'd had to stop and pour a bit of water over it, and by the time he was finished there was an obvious cramp in both his hands, but that didn't matter. With one last rinse of water Ben turned the faucet off and stepped out of the tub again, disappearing quietly from the bathroom to get a fresh packet of gauze and some medical tape.

Claire took the moment of solitude to let go of every muscle she hadn't realized she was flexing. It all released as a sounded, shaken breath from open lips, both hands moved to cover and swipe at her face. It felt hot, and mental and physical exhaustion was mixing sourly with the booze and adrenalin in her system.

_Breathe, Clairey._ She dropped her hands and looked hazily down at the pink and splotchy red ruin of her leg. Her fingertips trembled when she touched the inflamed skin near by.

"You okay?"

Ben stood in the doorway looking at her, his face touched with concern. She looked over her shoulder at his half-shadowed figure, and lifted a hand to push a piece of hair away from her eyes. She gave him a small smile and a less-than-enthusiastic nod.

"Could be worse," Claire confessed quietly. The flask caught her attention again, and she was tempted. _Very_ tempted, but falling asleep while drunk wasn't exactly a smart option. Ben crossed over to where she sat and offered his hand to her to help her up. She accepted without a word, and grabbed the flask on the way out.

"Any idea where you're goin' next?" Claire had asked before she knew the words were slipping away from her, thanks to the alcohol and her own curiosity. The latter was a lot stronger than she was ready to admit. The job was over-his friend's dad would eventually be exonerated with an alibi and lack of evidence.

Ben gave a weak shrug as he lead her carefully over to her bed and helped her sit on it. However once he had, he didn't know where to go. He wasn't sure he could leave her by herself with a clear conscience.

"Wherever the next job takes me," he said after a moment. Claire couldn't help but laugh a little, albeit softly, and with a touch of 'drunken giggle.'

"Y'sound like a Bon Jovi song." She slouched back against the wall and sighed a bit. The new angle brought a lot of her fatigue back to the front of her mind.

"Hey, Bon Jovi rocks on occasion," Ben countered, arching a single brow at her and smirking with the opposite corner of his mouth. She looked up at him and mirrored the expression, though maybe a little slower than she normally would have.

"Never said he didn't."

"All the same." He paused, licking his lips and studying her silently. What would have happened to her if he hadn't been there to watch her back? They'd pinned her in the Applebee's, too. That wasn't to say he didn't trust that she had it in her to take care of herself, but being alone out there was never a good idea. Even cops had partners when they went in to bust up a crime. Dean had had Sam. Maybe Claire was supposed to be his Sam.

_Or maybe you're just lonely,_ a critical voice inside him spoke up. He couldn't deny the truth in it entirely, even if he wanted to.

"What about you?"

Claire's mind was slowly dissolving into the warm embrace of whatever concoction he had in that flask and much needed sleep, but she kept her eyes open, despite their obvious weight. Had she considered the facts of the matter consciously - which she would, in the morning - it reflected the uncanny level of base-line trust she had developed with him over the course of the last couple days. Be it fate or faith, the two mixed strongly behind Claire's eyes when she looked at Ben. Especially now. She was a creature that followed God's signs when he laid them out-commonly without question.

"Wherever the job takes me." She gave him a leaning grin before letting her eyes close again, her fingertips flexed faintly on the plane of her stomach. He smiled faintly in response, his eyes lingering on her again.

_What's the worst she can say?_ he asked himself, chewing viciously on his lower lip. He steadied himself with a slow breath, then nodded.

"Y'wanna come with me?"

Claire opened her eyes and let them focus. She peered up from her lashes at him, half-lidded and sleepy, but very much aware of her thoughts and surroundings. Also, the tiny flutter somewhere in her gut. She immediately labeled it as a sign.

"I think I do."


	3. Deleted Scene: Dollar Dollar Bill Y'all

It had taken a lot of contemplation, but after the second day Ben finally decided it was time to sell his car. It was the next obvious choice, really. The cash he'd got out of the poker tournament with had been enough to cover the rest of the hotel charges and food, but following Claire or vise versa would be a waste of gas, and both of them were well aware how much gas cost those days.

And he wanted to get her into a clinic to check her vitals, just to make sure she wasn't getting an infection from his shoddy stichwork. The last thing he could handle right then was dealing with the guilt of her getting hit with a huge fever. Once the trunk was cleaned and they'd had a decent night's rest, Ben went back to the hotel to pack up his stuff and agreed to meet her at the nearby dealership.

It was definitely true; the second day was always the worst. Last night, the pain from her wound maintained a low roar in her entire bloodstream, managed by the liquid fire in Ben's flask. In the morning, at least the discomfort was centralized, but it'd also intensified-_condensed_like a freaking plasma star on the side of her leg. Claire ate a handful of Tylenol for breakfast and packed after Ben headed back to his hotel. The anti-inflammatory medicine did its job, though she was forced into a longer conversation with Rev. Kingsley when she limped up to his office to say her 'thank yous' and 'goodbyes.' Every other step tingled and pinched, and sliding a new pair of jeans over the wound was a lot less fun than she anticipated, but true to her word, she and the red GTO pulled into the dealership parking lot within five minutes of their meeting time.

She found Ben already in the office talking with the dealer, midway through the paperwork and looking a little worse for wear. The dealer was midway through a pitch to try and get him to trade it in for a newer car, but Ben was already shaking his head even though he didn't interrupt the man.

"...good value, given its mileage. You kept her in good shape. You'll get a decent trade for it."

"No thanks, man. Cash is fine by me."

Claire carefully eased herself into the tweed-looking chair beside Ben, and handed him one of the extra large Dunkin' Donuts coffees she carried which he took with a grateful smile. He looked like he was having a childhood pet put to sleep. She couldn't help but feel bad-a little sympathy never hurt anybody.

"All right, man, if that's what you want. Lemme double-check the books real quick'n see."

Ben muttered a quiet 'thanks' before taking a deep drink from his coffee, then looked sideways at Claire. The dealer blinked behind his screen, taking a breath.

"How's 28,000 sound?"

Ben very nearly spat out his coffee. "What, dollars?"

With a sidelong look at the dealer, Claire's eyebrows arched, and the corner of her lips twitched into one cheek. She switched her gaze back to Ben and mouthed the words _Up the ante_.

"I dunno, man," Ben said immediately, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's got a lot of sentimental value. Maybe I should drive it to my mom's and let her put it in storage."

The dealer took the bait and quickly countered. "I could go as high as 35,000, but I'd want my mechanic to look at it first and make sure it was in good condition."

It took all of Ben's effort not to have a heart attack on the spot. He'd _never_ had so much money before in his _life._ The Camaro had been a junker when he'd found it in the nickel ads. It had taken him three months to find all the parts it needed, and another five to rebuild it. He'd maybe spent four thousand on it altogether. _I am so in the wrong line of work,_he thought.

His eyes turned to Claire. "What d'you think?" She pressed her bottom lip into the top, and made a very convincing show of her 'deliberation.'

"'Lotta vintage lovers in Chicago would pay at least twenty-five more than that just to turn it over." Or so she had read once in an American Auto magazine near Joliet when she was having the GTO's tires replaced last summer. She could recite the article word for word, if she thought it would tighten the jawline of the dealer across from them. He was very good at hiding it, but Claire had been watching _very_closely.

The dealer looked like he was sweating bullets. He chewed his lip viciously before flashing a quick smile. "I'm gonna go get my mechanic. Don't you two go anywhere, yeah?"

When he disappeared through a back door Ben stuck his fist in his mouth to keep from making any sound. How was this even _possible?_He had to be dreaming.

"Pinch me."

Claire's shoulders twitched in a bout of silent laughter that was easy to see in her eyes. They flicked from the door the salesman had just walked through back to Ben, and her head tipped with the gravity of her smile. A fair trade was a fair trade, but _this_... well, this certainly put the life back in his eyes. Claire was more than a little glad for it.

"I'll wait," she mused over a happy sip from her coffee, and eased back a little more comfortably in the chair-favoring her leg, of course. "Y'know, just in case."

"What am I even gonna _do_ with that much money?" Ben blurted, his eyes still staring at the door. What if the dealer came out and told them to get lost? What if he decided they'd stolen the car? What if they declared it a lemon? _What if what if what if?_

"I think I'm gonna throw up."

"That probably won't help," Claire stated the obvious with a wry smile. A few moments later, both the salesman and what could only be the mechanic returned through the back door. The mechanic was an older man with salt-and-pepper hair and heavy laugh lines around his mouth and eyes, and when he looked at Ben he seemed very pleased.

"Your girlfriend tell ya to pick between your girls, kiddo?" he asked, his voice sounding much younger than the body it belonged to. Ben's eyes widened almost comically. Claire's cheeks blazed, half hidden behind her cup of coffee.

"Uhh, she's n- we're just friends," he clarified. The mechanic grinned more into one cheek than the other and offered the kid his hand.

"Well, you sure as hell put a'lotta love into that Chevy."

"Thank you, sir," Ben replied, taking it and giving it a firm shake. Hearing it wasn't as good as imagining hearing it from Dean, but it filled up some secret part of him with fulfillment and gratitude.

"We're not really in the business of selling classic cars, though," the dealer said. Any good feelings in Ben immediately emptied out of him, but the mechanic hadn't let go of his hand yet.

"But I'll buy it," the mechanic replied. "65-k, if you'll accept the offer." Only after a monumental amount of effort (and a hard bite down on her tongue) was Claire able to keep herself quiet, but her eyes shot straight to Ben's face. Somewhere deep inside her, she was praying he didn't _actually_loose his breakfast on the floor. Ben only nodded dumbly, too afraid to speak.

"So's that a yes?" The older man's grin lengthened, but his eyebrows arched with a curious glance at the salesmen behind him. Claire took the opportunity to firmly nudge Ben's foot with the tip of her boot-just a light kick to jar him out of his stupor. She also piped up to the two other men. Her smile, at least, came easily.

"He's just really attached."

"Yes," Ben blurted, nodding a little more vigorously. "Yeah, that's- yeah. More than fine. I feel like I'm robbing you." The look on the salesman's face seemed to agree, but it was out of his hands. The mechanic added his other hand to the handshake, then gave Ben a friendly pat on the shoulder before letting go.

"Nah, my boys'an I compete in car shows-been lookin' for a Camaro for a while. You know, there's kind of a shortage of Chevys in this town." He chuckled at his own little joke, then casted a look toward the back door. "C'mon back, we'll knock everything out and have you set by noon."

Ben seriously thought about sending the money back to his mother. Having a paper trail wasn't a good thing in his line of work, to be frank. Then he had a genius idea: loading up gift cards. It took the better half of the day, but by the end of it he had a stack of gift cards almost as thick as a playing deck. It made his brain hurt a little.

They'd gone to the clinic to have Claire's leg looked at as well, just to be safe. The doctor had frowned a little at them, saying that regular thread wasn't exactly the most sanitary way to handle that kind of wound. Within the hour Claire's leg was restitched and she was given a prescription for antibiotics and vicodin once Ben explained that they were traveling sales reps and were going to be on the road again for a few more days before heading 'home.'

Knowing that it was back to the grindstone the following day, Ben decided to find the nicest hotel in town and check them in. Someplace that had room service and pay-per-view, and maybe a really nice bathtub. It was just a case now of did they share one room, or get two with some sort of joiner. He'd never been in those kinds of hotels before, but surely they had to exist. He'd seen them on TV.

"Not sure I even _want_ to get used to this..." Claire breathed with look of awe around the lavish black marble and warm accented lobby. It was nice-very nice. Maybe _too_nice. She'd been in church guest rooms, convents, and trucker motels for so long, anything fancy tended to make her a little uncomfortable. She felt like she stuck out like the limp she was doing her best not to show.

"Probably won't," Ben replied, finally deciding on one room. He wanted to be within easy reach if something happened to her and she needed him. "It'll just be for tonight. I wanna be sure we can buy a few supplies before we go that might cut into our budget a bit."

_That_caught her attention, but Claire stayed quiet while he finished checking in. On the way to the elevator, she re-shouldered her duffel and cut the lobby into sections with her gaze. It was crowded. Were hotels like this always crowded? Luckily there weren't any other guests in line for the doors behind them. They dinged, then closed after Claire pressed the 'close doors' button and leaned back against the brass rail. "So what'd you have in mind?"

Something about her question made his insides twist. Ben swallowed, trying to play it cool. "For what, supplies?"

Her brows pinched together above her nose, then rose high above a somewhat comical look, and a nod. "Uh-_huh_. What'd you think I meant?"

"Well, I mean, the rest of the night. Like, if we were gonna watch movies or... y'know what, nevermind." He laughed awkwardly. "Ah... probably a couple new guns and ammo and maybe a few specialty items. I've got iron and silver, but I haven't got any copper and we should probably see what we've both got and cross-reference to see whatever it is we're missing from the bulk, y'know? Better over-prepared than under-prepared, right?" At first, Claire had been watching simply because he was explaining. Then the explanation continued to a curious length, and she started picking up on those little facial and bodily clues all the interrogation textbooks and psychology references taught her to look for. The way he hadn't stopped to breathe was a big one all on it's own.

Claire felt her cheeks get warm-annoyingly so, because it was the umpteenth time in three days. _Get it in check,_she thought to herself, unaware that her eyes had moved to the doors, waiting for them to open. She tried convincing herself it was just the whole new-partner thing, but Claire wasn't that naive. It didn't mean she couldn't try to just work through it.

She cleared her throat a little and nodded, jumping into the conversation Ben seemed to be having with himself. "Michigan's got a seven day waiting period." The elevator doors opened. Claire shuffled herself in front of them and waited for him to lead into the hall. "I've got a contact outside of Holland, though. Last I checked, she has everything." Concentrating on what they knew best was a lot easier.

"Works for me," Ben replied. He'd had every intention of driving out of the state anyway, after stopping by to visit his mother. It'd been four months since he'd last driven through Arcadia. The elevator door dinged open, thankfully interrupting that thought.

In a matter of moments, they were both inside the room. Again, that strange sense of grandure overcame them. The colors made the room appear twice its size, and everywhere was the subtle shift of rich fabrics and inlays. Ben was most impressed by the huge windows on the far facing wall and the way the setting sun set the city and the room ablaze.

"Wow."

"Yeeah..." Business talk was waylaid for the strange sense of nostalgia that washed through Claire's chest. She remembered rooms like this, or at least _one_room like this. In Disney World when she was nine, with both her parents. Claire dropped her duffel bag on the suitcase rack and swept the room with a small smile she didn't realize was on her face. "Definitely not gonna get used to this."

"It's like a vacation," he said in wonderment, dropping his bag as well. He didn't even know what he wanted to do first, but his body decided for him with a noticeable gurgle that sent fire into his face. Wordlessly he went to the little kitchen table and sought out the menu. Claire caught the look of determined intent in his eyes and grinned brightly.

"You read my mind." She started shrugging out of her jacket and tossed it on one of the two queen beds. She was still wearing the thread bare t-shirt and cami from last night, and her hair felt like it'd been washed with gun residue. Her body was torn between food and shower. Thankfully the food would take a while. Oh, how she adored efficient time management opportunities.

"Get me something greasy," she suggested on her slow-way to the bathroom.

Just looking at the menu options left him almost as baffled as the hotel room options. The prices were _insane;_it was the kind of fare he expected to see on an anniversary or some big celebration, not after selling his car. Hell, his graduation party food hadn't even been that much, and he'd fed 20 people. Despite the overwhelming urge to order as cheaply as he could, or even to go as far as to drive to the nearby Hardy's they'd seen driving in, Ben forced himself to embrace Opposite Day in all its splendor.

"Yeah, room service?" he said into the phone. "I'd like to place an order for room 482?"

In the closed-off, shampoo and humidity-smelling bathroom after a rather lengthy shower, Claire had no idea of the savory-sweet atmosphere that would hit her like a wall when she finally opened the door and stepped back into the main room. The automatic twisting of wet, blond hair in the towel between her hands stopped dead. Claire's eyes were locked like scopes on the spread set up on the kitchenette table.

"Oh..._wow_." She expected maybe a monster eight dollar burger dripping with cheese and ketchup, but _this_... Maybe it was the Vicodin she took right before bathing, but Claire's stomach tightened and her knees felt _very_weak.

Ben turned around from the window, looking almost out of place in their current setting with the last of the fading sunset backlighting his form. He caught her expression and smiled.

"Almost thought you drowned in there," he said with a hint of amusement in his voice. Sitting on a side table he'd dragged over from their little "sitting room" and settled between their two beds was a case each of Michelob Ultra and Dr. Pepper, and some gift basket sort of thing that had a Movie Night theme.

"Maybe I did..." -and this was Heaven? Needless to say, Claire was slowly starting to realize she didn't get a lot of time to relax. Or maybe she just never had a reason to; busy work kept her mind away from things like this. She dropped the towel on the back of a chair and went straight for a can of beer. Mixing it with the pain killer was fine-they weren't going anywhere.

Ben came around to one of the two chairs and settled into it, starting to pull off the lids of the plates. The aroma in the room intensified twofold.

"Rock-paper-scissors you for the steak," he said, casting another smile in her direction.

Funny how room for dessert mysteriously appears with the smell of cherries and dark, rich chocolate, even after stuffing herself mercilessly for the last forty minutes. The piece of chocolate cake in front of Claire was slowly disappearing, bite by bite between the pain-killer and Lite Beer mix of giggles and snickers. The phrase 'fat and happy' flashed through her mind about ten minutes prior. Now, Claire found herself overcompensating for nearly ten years of an almost monk-like existence, grinning stupidly at the bright smile and sharp hazel eyes across from her.

"I _really_thought you were gonna hurl on his shoes..." she managed to chuckle out around her latest bite of cake.

"So did I," he admitted, his face permanently burnished red around his cheeks and ears from the beer. He was ahead of her by at least three as well as a few sips from his flask, which he declared earlier that he had every intention of giving an upgrade with top shelf booze rather than the stuff he could normally afford.

"If I'da known how much I couldda gotten for it, I'd've refurbbed a few other cars that year and kept 'em at my mom's. How crazy." Claire flopped back against her chair and continued to giggle at nothing in particular.

"She would've allowed that? My mom would've called the junkyard." She put her hand on the flat of her stomach and pushed the other through her now-dry hair. Of course, now she was picturing her father buried waist-up under a hood. Much as she missed him, the image was too funny not to smirk at.

"It wouldda taken some weedling, but I think she would've caved," he said. His tongue had considerably loosened with each subsequent drink. "It would've given her somethin' to try'n drag me home for."

Even as he said it, some of the good mood drained out of him, but he battled it with another bite of the outrageously decadent dessert. "Maybe I'll start doin' repairs for cash when we're runnin' low. I never thought 'bout doin' that."

Claire nodded in agreement, feeling like a hundred pound slug. She was done with the cake-there just wasn't any room left. "Probably more reliable than the poker thing." Safer too.

"Not that we're gonna need cash anytime soon," he said with a sudden and huge grin. Claire mirrored it easily, reveling in the way her lips and the tip of her nose tingled.

"So, Gracious Host," she both praised and teased him, lacing her fingers at the back of her head. "What now?"

"Well, we've got a huge flat-screen and any number of pay-per-view movies on demand." Ben started to pile the leftovers onto fewer plates in order to stick them in the refrigerator in their private kitchen. "What say you?" Claire giggled, forcing herself to sit up and crack open another beer.

"Surprise me-I haven't seen a lot of movies." She covered her empty plate and limped her way to the bed on the right.

It was nearing 4AM by the time they finished _Return of the Jedi._ Ben refused to watch the prequels on grounds that they were shit and Hayden Christensen was a terrible actor, so they'd premised the three movies by watching _Ghostbusters_ and _Caddyshack._Needless to say, Ben thought Bill Murray was a god among insects.

It was the second time Ben had ever seen Claire drunk, and in all honesty he kind of liked drunk Claire. Drunk Claire smiled and giggled a lot more than Sober Claire did in the small amount of time that he knew her, and she had this look about her that he found himself enjoying immensely. Her hair would tangle around her too-red cheeks and her amazingly clear blue eyes would get glassy and when she smiled, he felt it in his groin.

"You okay over there, Chuckles?" he asked her once she'd settled down on her bed again. "Good for one more?"

By that point, Claire had made herself lazily comfortable without any regard for how one was _supposed_to lay on a bed. She was half-curled on her side with a thick pillow loosely clutched to her chest-the majority of her hair sprawled off the side of the bed, twitching for the floor each time she moved. She shifted, peering at him from across the space between the two beds. Like most of the sentences she managed to start in the last hour, this one started with a delicately scoffed laugh.

"One more beer or one more movie?" Her cheeks were apple'd and Claire's abs actually _hurt_from laughing-but she didn't even feel the gash in her leg anymore. Honestly, Claire probably couldn't feel her legs in general by that point.

"We might be out of beers," he said, half the words coming out as a grunt as he leaned sideways over the gap between his bed and the table between them to check. Sure enough, the twelve pack was empty and the sodas still remained untouched. "Yep. Out. So another movie? Or somethin' else?" She exaggeratedly arched one brow at him, even squinting one eye to close, then snorted comically at herself.

"I don't-" she pushed a sudden breath toward the ceiling. Rolling to her back had shifted all the beer in her head, and she had to catch up, her eyes closed. "_S'cuse me_." Even drunk, Claire was still polite. "I don'think I'll last through another movie."

Her eyes opened again, sleepy and giddy and glazed-and looking at Ben from her upside down angle. She smiled warm and automatic, just on the thought that she couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much fun. Ben smiled back, glad that her legs and torso were temporarily out of view. It was always really strange to see another girl in yoga pants. Not that yoga pants weren't incredibly sexy, but they reminded him a little too much of his mom, and that whole train of thought often lead to an instant buzzkill.

"Probably not," he reaffirmed with a nod. He'd yet to have himself a hot bath or anything, and considering how drunk she was and ready to pass out maybe taking one would be a good idea. It would at least give him the privacy of a shut door for a little while.

His reaffirming nod was returned by one of her own, just for good measure, and because for some reason Claire thought the redundancy was funny. The sheets whispered with the slow, heavy movements of her attempt to sit up, then swing her feet over the side in order to stand. The weight on her bad leg shot a lightning bolt of sobriety up her spine, and Claire hissed through her teeth on her way toward her bag. She was surprisingly upright for her level of intoxication, but still listing toward her injury. "Jus'gonna check a few things," she muttered, full of breath and mostly to herself. Claire snuck a sidelong glance at him as she unburied her laptop.

"Sure, no problem," he replied, nodding yet again. In fact, her move to retrieve her laptop reminded him of something he'd yet to do: protect their room. Of course, it was highly unlikely that any demons or supernatural creatures would find them in such a ritzy place so high off the ground, but it was better to be vigilant than under-prepared. He rolled sideways off the bed and went to his duffel.

"Did'ju get a chance t'clear things up with 'Kim'?" Claire lightly slurred as she rolled back onto her bed and flipped open the laptop. It took her a moment to properly locate the power button-probably would've been better to push her hair out of her eyes first.

_Who?_he thought, but then recognition dawned on him. "Oh! Yeah. She's... fine. Her dad's out and home safe." Claire nodded once, then propped herself on folded elbows and squinted at her screen as it came to life. No less than three password screens protected everything she'd worked for in the last ten years. It took a little more effort this time around to hunt and peck the encryptions in her current state.

On the fourth try for the second password, Claire huffed exhaustion and drunken frustration, then propped her chin in one hand and tried again with the other-like that would improve her chances. Her eyes washed a more brilliant blue from the screen, flicked over the computer edge to where Ben was lying salt at the door. She lost her train of thought-her gaze wandered the line of his forearm to the salt box, to the string of white he left behind. Ben continued with the rest of the warding, going to each of the windows as well before returning to his duffel bag for a woven mat. He put the mat in front of the door and once it was unrolled, it revealed a devil's trap.

By the time he looked up, Claire's cheek was sagging heavily against her palm, pushing her eye into a squint. She'd half-forgotten about the laptop, and what she was supposed to do on it before succumbing to one of the best nights of sleep she'd have in a long time. Whatever it was would come to her in the morning, she was sure.

Once Ben was finished putting everything back in his duffel and putting both his and hers back in the closet, he turned back to find Claire asleep face-down on the laptop keyboard. He smiled weakly in response, carefully tugging it out from beneath her before turning it off and putting it on the nearby nightstand. After that was done he took in inventory: She was already basically in pajamas, and she'd never put her shoes back on, so all it took was a gentle maneuvering to get her blankets out from beneath her and tuck her in. She looked peaceful, and it made Ben glad.

God, he wanted to kiss her. It was with that thought that Ben disappeared in the direction of the bathroom.


	4. Episode 2: Sweet Child O' Mine

The sparks looked like stars, zooming up and melding into the night sky. Jesse hadn't thought of that one himself. A girlfriend - or at least as close as he ever got to a girlfriend - had said it on a night that was pretty similar to this one. Only that night was several years and tens of thousands of miles ago. Then he'd been lying on a towel on the sand with a pretty girl, listening to the waves. Now he was lying on a blanket in the middle of the woods, listening to three guys giggle over their mull. Aside from no possibility of sex, they were pretty equal nights.

"Look," he said, pointing up. "The fire's like stars, except falling up instead of down. Stars are made of fires sparks."

There was silence a moment, then giggles.

"You ain't far enough along if you're talking Lion King shit," said Luke, passing the joint.

Jesse took a deep pull before passing it on, watching the smoke rise above him as he let it out. "And now I've made clouds," he said, snorting a laugh.

"Dude, where's the fritos? Did we finish 'em already?" Bryan asked, looking around their junkfood pile.

"Fuck if I know." Stu shoveled the last handful of Funyuns in his mouth and tossed the wrapper in the fire. He was so captivated by the way it shriveled, he almost missed the blunt being handed his way.

"Fuck fritos, I want chips," Jesse said, rolling on his stomach and propping himself up. "No, wait! Fried pizza! Shit, you ever have fried pizza?"

Bryan snorted derisively at Jesse. "Fritos are chips, fag."

Stu choked a little, spurting smoke from the corners of his mouth. Laughing and breathing at the same time were a little too complicated at the moment. "Fried pizza Fritos, man..."

"This blunt shit is too slow," Bryan said solemnly. "I think it's time to bring out Fat Sally."

"You been hidin' a girl here this whole time and didn't tell me?" Jesse said, tilting his head with a smile.

Luke roared. "Ain't a girl, but you can try'n fuck her later if you want. Go and get her, Stu."

"Dude-" Stu's glassy grey eyes were open as much as possible-which wasn't that much-trained on the new recruit of their group. "Don'chu put your dick anywhere near my bong." His brows arched and he pointed, because pointing was important, then got up and headed to the truck.

Bryan snickered, grabbing up a stick that was on the ground within arm's reach before chucking it at Stu's retreating backside. He screeched in the distance. "Lord knows, you fuck that bong enough, Stewie."

"Yer mom complains too much, Asshole!" Stu barked back. His footsteps crunched on dead leaves and grit now that the fire and the others' voices faded with distance. _Fuck_ it was dark out here. Funny how Chicago was only an hour drive away, and here he needed the help of a mini Maglite just to see the lock on the tailgate.

_Fuckers better not smoke everything I got_, a mildly disgruntled thought ran through his mind as he dropped the gate and pushed up the old mismatched topper, and climbed in with the rest of their gear.

Digging through chaotically thrown-together camping supplies in the pitch black with a Maglite rolling awkwardly between his shoulder and cheek was a lot more difficult than it sounded. Stu could barely hold onto the light, braced with bony knees digging into the raw metal truck bed and moving duffels and sleeping bags aside to find the blanket-wrapped gravity bong hiding somewhere in the back.

"FUCK-" He'd shifted weight to accidentally lean all of it on a tent-spike that got left behind, lurched forward, and dropped the flashlight from his neck. It clanged harshly, then went out.

"...muther_fucker_." Stu grimaced and grabbed for the light and pressed in the rubber switch. Nothing happened. It clicked again and again with the same result; even shaking the damned thing didn't work. A slew of muttered curses echoed in the back of the truck, keeping Stu distracted from the fact that the tailgate, and the topper door, were slowly closing by themselves.

As he finally came up with the bong, there was a loud and distinct click. He spun around, finding himself closed in. "Hey!" he snapped, grabbing at the window latch. It wouldn't budge. "You fuckers lock me in here, you ain't getting the bong!"

There was no response. Not a word, not even a laugh. Stu frowned. Maybe it had fallen closed. The only other way out was the cab window. He turned back around. The night had been relatively warm, but suddenly he felt like he'd was out in the dead of winter. His breath came out in a hot white cloud, which easily dissipated in the air. Suddenly he was flipped onto his back, and above him a furious, pale woman glared down at him with a blood-tainted knife. He screamed in pants-wetting terror before the knife came down into him, cutting him off.

Jesse's head jerked around to the cut-off scream, and he wasn't the only one.

"Fuck, he having a freak-out or something?" he said, eying the others. Luke's eyes were glued to the darkness, cut by a little glare from the fire off the truck bumper in the distance. He forced a half-chewed load of Doritos down his throat, then cleared it.

"'Ey Stu! The fuck's wrong with you, man?"

"Probably saw a spider or something, the pussy," Bryan said, snickering like he'd told the best joke in the world.

With still no response, Jesse fiddled with his hands before getting up. "Prob'ly fell in a ditch or something. I'm gonna check."

He headed towards the truck on unsteady feet, calling Stu's name every once in a while. But no one answered or even seemed to be around. The truck was still all closed up. Thinking that he really should have brought a flashlight, Jesse figured he could grab the bong while he was here and then they'd look for Stu. Maybe he'd gone to take a piss and fallen over.

Opening the tailgate, he reached in and started feeling around.

"Aw shit." Someone must have spilled a drink. From a thermos, probably, because it was still warm. Looked like it had spilled on a blanket covering something harder. He felt along it, coming to a warm, hard jut of something and then what felt like...lips. Eyes going wide, he grabbed what had to be a sweater and pulled the body into the light. Stu'd wide eyes stared back at him, his mouth as gaping as the wounds in his chest.

Jesse froze for one long moment. Then he let go, stumbled a few steps back, and leaned over to vomit, hard and burning. Without even thinking it, his feet went towards the campfire. _Oh God. OhGodOhGodOhGod._

Luke's brows pushed down over his nose as he peered into the dark, and caught the hard _thump thump thump_ of Jesse's panicked stride-then shot up when he saw the new dude's face. "_Shit_, man..." Guy looked like he saw a ghost. He was about to say such when his thought was cut off, and his blood suddenly chilled with the shrill, piercing, _haunting_ sound of a woman's anguished scream.

"...tell me you heard that," he shot a look at Bryan, then back to Jesse.

"Holy shit, _what the fuck was that?_" Bryan bleated, his eyes wide and his skin going as pale as a sheet. "What the _fuck_ was _that?_"

Jesse's head snapped around, his stomach lurching. On instinct, he grabbed Luke's arm. "It-It- Stu's dead. Someone killed Stu. He's bleeding and not breathing."

"_What?_" Luke tensed as soon as Jesse grabbed him, but what the other man _said_ fought back his original urge to just rip away. "Th'fuck you mean, de-"

He was cut off again, this time by the echoing bellow of a man, somewhere in the dark nearby. Rageful and crazed, and _so close_ to the oily halo of light cast by the fire. The oddly warm early spring air suddenly dropped, like the breeze and the subtle sounds of a forest at night. After that scream, _everything_ went silent, except for the increasingly frantic breaths of those huddled together.

"_Fuck_, dude..." Luke's eyes had locked on something just over Jesse's shoulder. They were wide and glassy with shock, and he grappled at the other man's arm to turn him around. There, melting from the shadows themselves, was a tall, pale man. His expression was complete hatred and malice; his clothing, besides the monotone black and grays, streaked by deep red and deep, yawning gashes. At his side, he held an ax.

"We gotta get back to the car, man," Bryan said in a shrill voice. "Where are the keys? Did Stu take the keys with him? Fuck, I _knew_ I shouldn't have let that fucker have the keys." He started shoveling everything within reach into the bags that they'd brought out with them.

"Forget the shit and move!" Jesse yelled, shoving Luke towards the trunk before grabbing Bryan's arm and yanking him along. Dead body in a trunk was better than man with an ax.

Out of the complete blackness in their line of escape, the shape of a woman materialized in the blink of an eye; she raised the dripping blade in her fist, and her cracked mouth gaped like the wounds all over her body, in order to let loose another fearsome scream. But it was cut short by a piece of quite real, dark metal slicing through the middle of the apparition's waist. The spectre yelled into nothingness as it dissolved out of sight-behind her was Claire, wielding an iron fireplace poker like a Louisville Slugger.

"Get back to the fire!" she barked at the three men, already cutting around them on a slightly limping stride, her weapon raised and threatening toward the other ghost-who leered at her before disappearing on his own.

Bryan certainly wasn't going to argue, and immediately turned around and started bolting in the other direction until Jesse's grip on his arm forced him to trip and fall, very nearly dragged the other man down in the process. Luke stumbled back, still gaping and seemingly unable to speak.

"What's going on? What was that? What the hell was in that pot?" Jesse said, his head snapping around, trying to find the man and woman. Instead he saw Claire, and finally got a good look at her. "Fuck me dead. You're that cop from the concert."

Claire had just buried the end of the poker in the moist ground in order to snag the box of salt from the bag around her shoulder when she realized one of them was talking directly to her-which wasn't surprising in principle. Not in the circumstances. But the context... That was new.

She looked over her shoulder at the one who'd called her a cop. His face was familiar; she'd definitely seen him before. Obviously _he'd_ seen _her_. "Sure," she cut it short and quick, opting for sharing time once the circle was complete. "Cop from the concert-that's me." In the meantime, she stooped low and circled the fire slow, Morton Salt box in hand, and tipped. "Stay behind this line, and _don't_ **mess**/i with it."

Bryan looked at the salt incredulously, then back at the blonde. "So what, whatever it is has hypertension or somethin'? The hell is salt gonna do?"

"Shut up and just do it," Jesse hissed, though his eyes stayed on Claire, sizing her up. He sure knew what salt was for, and he had to hold back the urge to run. It was entirely possible she was trying to trap him, that she'd somehow followed him here from the concert, but it didn't all add up. Why kill Stu? And what were those- "Jesus Christ, those were ghosts. They were ghosts, weren't they?"

She'd just finished closing the circle when he came to the correct, and rather _quick_ conclusion. Claire stood up straight, long, escaped strands of her hair unloosed from her pony tail caught the gold of the fire. She stared at the tallest of the three-the one who'd done most of the coherent talking. Her breaths were still a bit sharp from the hard (and _painful_) run from where she'd come from, but the burn in her lungs wasn't comparing to the one in her leg. His reminding her of that night didn't help the distraction either.

In the end, opting for the quick explanation was best-for now. Claire closed her lips and nodded, and limped lightly toward the three. "Nasty ones. Hold out your hands." She had the salt ready-just an extra handful for each, just in case. Of course, she didn't exactly expect full, quiet cooperation.

"No, this is crazy!" Bryan cried out. "There's no such things as ghosts! We're just trippin' our balls off! There's no way this is real!"

"Sit down, shut up, and take your salt!" Jesse snapped at him. It wasn't just the crazy-ass situation getting to him. All his life he'd tried to avoid the creepy stuff out there, and the people who followed it. Being caught in the middle of it had him on edge.

Both Bryan and Luke did what they were told almost instantly, though Luke immediately started shaking where he sat. He looked like he'd either piss himself in fear or cry, or possibly both. Bryan just stared wild-eyed in the direction of the woods that they had came from. Somewhere off in the distance, another male voice shouted out, though it didn't sound like the howl of the first one. Claire instantly stiffened, her eyes snapped in the direction of the distant shout.

"_Dammit_," she yanked the poker from the grass and put the salt back in her bag, then shot a look back to the obvious leader of the stoner-parade. The familiar one who was a lot more accepting of this scenario than should've been. "You all _stay_... don't cross the line, you'll be fine." And with that, she turned for the dark with an answering shout.

"Wait..." The words died half out of Jesse's throat. He swallowed. Being penned in was bad enough without being left alone. From what he'd read, ghosts didn't cross salt lines, but damned if he didn't want to find out the truth tonight.

Claire's crisp, if slightly off-kilter stride immediately slowed, even if every bit of her wanted very much to keep going. The inexplicable need to find out what she was waiting for overrode all of it, and she stopped, half turned in his direction. "What?"

What a loaded question. "You-you'll be back, right?" he said, eyes glued to hers, trying to read the truth there. She nodded curtly-genuinely-though a spark of impatience and a healthy dose of anxiety sharpened her blue gaze. It was made bronze by the fire light.

"If I don't get chopped to kindling, yes." Her feet started to move again, and Claire headed off, the poker poised out from her hip. Bryan whimpered where he sat on the ground, but didn't say anything. 

* * *

><p>"You're not stopping me that easily, you bitch!" Ben shouted into the darkness. He'd circled the grave he was digging with salt, but the ghost was apparently much more clever than the last one he'd ever torched. She was <em>throwing shit<em> at him. The tree branch that had knocked him over the salt line had been just enough for her to grab him and drag him out a few feet before throwing him bodily against the nearest tree, but he still had the iron chain wrapped around his forearm. A single whip through her and she was gone again, but he knew it wouldn't be for long.

"I didn't kill your daughter!" he shouted again. "I'm trying to _help_ you! All of you! You're dead and you don't even realize it!" Out of the darkness came another vengeful shriek, echoing against the trees somewhere between words and mindless screaming. Claire grunted as she stomped over a fallen log, having followed the haunting sounds and Ben's familiar cursing. The flashlight she brought was barely a match for the moonless night; she was glad for the glow of Ben's lantern when she came to it, despite the scene it revealed. Namely the gray mist rapidly forming the shape of a man directly behind him.

"Six o'clock!" she barked, knowing she wasn't fast enough to get there in time. Ben dropped the shovel instantly, grabbed his shotgun, turned, and shot the male ghost in its newly-materialized face. It faded instantly.

"What took you so long!" he shouted, an unintentional edge in his voice. He'd tried her phone, but reception out in the woods was spotty at best. He deeply regretted not having bought the walkie-talkies he'd seen in the store they'd trailed through before stopping for the night.

"Ran into the Scrappy Doo Gang right before they got skewered," Claire panted and leaned heavily on her good foot-her bag dropped to the ground for the teabags of salt she used as ghost-grenades. She was on her way down to grab a handful when a thick branch swung out from nowhere and caught her in the gut-all the air left her lungs in a sick noise, and the ground outside the circle broke her fall.

Ben cursed, once again reaching for his gun. Panic stopped him dead in his tracks; he wouldn't dare pick up the shovel and go back to it until she was all right.

"Are you all right!"

"_OW_!" was her answer, with no small amount of disdain in her voice for the dead woman who appeared standing over her, brandishing the bloody knife. Claire whipped her poker at the thing's legs, and she evaporated. "_Fine!_ Keep digging!" She'd only gotten one foot flat on the ground when the male twisted a grip in her hair and yanked hard. Her shriek scraped in the back of her throat-she banished the ghost with a backhanded swing. 

* * *

><p>Jesse's head jerked around toward the scream, his wide eyes searching the darkness.<p>

"You hear that?" Luke said, his voice breaking in panic. "Was that the-the ghost?"

"No. It was the girl," Jesse said, pacing the edges of the circle. The girl who had already come and saved their asses. He wasn't used to being the one saved, the one protected. He didn't like it. And if things were going bad for her...

He looked at the wide line of salt at his feet. When he'd first read that salt kept demons at bay, he'd grabbed a canister from his cupboard and poured out a line to walk across. It made him feel like crap, but it wasn't impossible.

"Stay here," he said, without looking back at the guys. Then he took a step forward.

The whole world seemed to shift on its axis and he nearly fell over before catching his balance. His stomach heaved with nausea and he held still, closing his eyes. That's when he heard the crying. It was quiet but insistent, like someone in more pain than they could imagine. The girl. Who else could it be? Not yet recovered, he stumbled off in the direction of the crying. 

* * *

><p>"The hell were you talkin' about, 'Scrappy Doo Gang'?" Ben asked insistently between breaths, not even bothering to correct her reference. Later, maybe, but not now. He'd managed to get her back into the circle easily enough, and was back to rapidly digging through the grave he'd started. His next dig finally hit something solid and he gave a little noise of triumph, then took the blade of the shovel and slammed it down as hard as he could muster.<p>

"Bunch'a stoners camping in the clearing," she replied while keeping watch on the edge of the grave, poker in one hand, salt in the other. The contrast between the lantern and the dark beyond made it hard to see beyond the circle, but by God if Claire wasn't watching a lot closer for flying tree limbs. She could see the two of them-the dead husband and wife-on the edge of the trees, looming closer in choppy, unnatural movements. Claire shouted at them. "We. Are here. To _help you!_" Course, the enthusiasm in those words leaked after the third or fourth branch to the body.

Ben kept breaking apart the grave, which didn't take long given how old the wood had become, though his face twisted in a scowl. "There's always a bunch of stoners camping in the damn woods. Christ on a cracker... Pass me the salt, wouldja?" Claire obliged, but not before lightly swatting him on the back of the head with it. He winced and scowled further, swiping it out of her hand unnecessarily hard.

"Language."

"Yes, mom."

As he started shaking salt out onto the first set of bones, the two ghosts turned their heads as one into the woods and vanished. Ben looked in the direction with a hint of puzzlement.

"Guess they're goin' to say goodbye while they still have a chance," he muttered. Claire looked unconvinced, but more so, worried. She turned her eyes down into the grave, counted one half-skinned, long haired skull, and that was it.

"I doubt th-" she was cut off by the shrill wail of a child on the wind. The sound turned Claire's blood cold.

Ben groaned. "Fantastic. Here, my arms are sore; just tell me which way they are." Claire took the shovel and salt, then gave him a hand out of the dirt hole.

"Less than a hundred yards south west-just look for the fire." She caught his eyes just before letting go. "One of'em looks familiar. Be careful."

He flashed her a small smile. "I'm always careful," he reassured her, grabbing his shotgun before taking off at a sprint. 

* * *

><p>Jesse swore he couldn't have gone too far, but his limbs felt heavy and he was breathing hard. The world didn't feel like it was quite in clear focus, not helped by the fact that his flashlight seemed to hardly reach three feet in front of him. But the crying was clear. That he could focus on.<p>

"Where are you?" he called. "Are you alright?"

She never answered, the crying just continuing to get louder and louder. The ground began to slope up but he hardly noticed. Then his feet hit rock, giant boulders jutting out of the hill. The crying came from them. Crawling up on them, he found a crevice, dark and narrow and echoing with sobs. He slithered onto his belly, peering into it with his light. It hit on a crying girl, alright, but not the one he'd been looking for.

"You alright? Here, I'll get you out," he said, reaching down for her.

He hadn't scooched three inches on his belly before a cold, hard force seized his ankle and yanked backward. Another unnaturally strong five fingered grip twisted in his shirt between the shoulder blades and whipped him through the air.

Jesse's scream cut off as he hit the ground hard, the air knocked out of him. He struggled to move and push himself up, his eyes falling on the ghosts. _Shit, shit, shit._ He should just blink out of there, but there were two girls now. He couldn't leave them alone.

Now if he could only think how you were supposed to fight ghosts.

The female launched herself forward, her bloodied weapon arched over her head like a scorpion's stinger, but suddenly disappeared in a burst of bright, heatless flames, wailing into blackness.

Jesse gave a shout, stumbling to his feet, and looking down at himself. Had he done that? He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and ducked, an ax swinging right where his neck had been. He broke into a run.

The last spirit bellowed hollow and frigid, he and the sound dissolved into the darkness, only to reappear directly in front of the man who dared reach for his offspring. Hatred and soulless rage burned in his eyes as the ax swung down from over his head.

But before the ax connected, there was the sound of the air being sliced through, and the spirit vanished yet again. Ben appeared once the spirit vapors dispersed, his chest heaving with every breath.

"You were s'posed t'stay in the circle," he growled out between breaths before recognition set in. "Oh, _Hell._"

"You're telling me," Jesse said, breathing hard but trying to smile. "Why you two always gotta show up and ruin things when I'm tryin' to have fun?"

"Why you gotta be a magnet for trouble?" Ben shot back, then tossed him the shotgun. He wasn't even completely sure why he did it, but it felt right. "C'mon, we gotta get back to your friends before Daddy Dearest gets any ideas."

Jesse caught the gun, although he didn't know how to use it beyond pulling the trigger. "No, there's this girl, she's stuck," he said, turning back to the rocks and heading towards the crevice. "Gotta get her safe first."

"Trust me, she's taken care of," Ben said, catching the other man by the arm to keep him from going back. "Your friends are in a lot worse danger if they go steppin' out of the circle and the longer we sit here, the more likely the ghost is gonna come lookin' for them."

"They aren't dill, they'll stay put," Jesse said, though he had his doubts even as the word came out. "Whaddya mean she's taken care of, she's right there and there's a ghost with an ax here."

"She's a ghost too, man, now _come on!_" Ben said insistently, all but yanking on his arm. "The longer we stand around, the more likely Dad'll-"

As if summoned by the thought, the male ghost reappeared a few feet in front of them, looking just as murderous as previously. Jesse jerked Ben back, still on automatic "run away" mode. When Jesse didn't shoot him, Ben grabbed the shotgun out of his limp grasp again, aimed and fired. The ghost exploded into vapors yet again.

"Move it!" Ben barked, long past asking politely.

Jesse didn't hesitate now, running back towards where he thought the campfire was. His heart was going a mile a minute, but his legs seemed to move in slow motion, his arms like slabs of stone attached to his side. And he was going to have to pass the salt line again. The idea made him feel ill.

Ben's whole body ached, from the tips of his fingers all the way down to the soles of his feet and everything in between, but he knew there was no way he could stop. They needed to get back to that damn camp, or something would happen to these poor, stupid stoners. He scowled at Jesse's back, pushing as hard as he could.

When they finally got to the fire, though, the circle was broken and empty. Ben skidded to a stop, looking around wildly.

"Shit."

His heart dropping to his feet, Jesse fell hard to his knees, too exhausted to stay up. "Maybe- Maybe they drove off," he said through heaving breaths.

_Doubt it,_ Ben thought bitterly, though he didn't dare say it aloud. He didn't know how long the other man knew his friends, and he didn't want to take away his hope. The woods were silent except for the mournful sobs of the little girl that whispered through the leaves.

"Where'd you park?"

"'Bout twenty feet that way," he said, pointing but staying put. He'd left them. He'd left those two fuckwits alone to chase after a little girl ghost and now they'd gotten themselves killed. He got them killed.

Ben paused in a moment of indecision. He didn't want to leave the other man alone, but he looked thoroughly shaken up. He'd be a liability. It would be much safer to shove him back into a ring of salt and come back for him. Ben ran a hand backwards up through his hair. _Maybe he'll be better with the chain than the gun,_ he thought, unwinding the chain from around his arm.

"C'mon, let's go." We gotta keep moving," Ben told him. _Claire, please be safe._

Though it took all his strength, Jesse pushed to his feet, following close behind. "Where's the other hunter?" he said. "I heard her scream."

"She's-" Ben started, then stopped dead in his tracks, turning sharply to look at him. "You know what hunters are?"

Jesse froze. Definitely the wrong word to use, but not like he could take it back now. "Yeah, met a couple before. Otherwise I'd've been pissing my trousers with the other blokes."

Ben looked at the other man critically. This was all just a little too coincidental for his taste. He had half a mind to pull out his silver knife and test the guy to see if he was some sort of... relative of the shifters they'd just killed. He'd been there for that, after all. It made him nervous.

"She's fine," he said, the words clipped. _Me, I'm not so sure._ "She can take care of herself. Keep walkin'."

Jesse looked at him with a slight frown but didn't hesitate to follow. He felt a twist in his stomach, though, when they saw the truck. The shadow of Stu's body was just visible from where they stood.

A scream ripped through the air before cutting short. With a surge of adrenaline, Jesse ran towards it as hard as he could.

"Wait-!" Ben shouted, but Jesse was showing no signs of stopping. Ben groaned out in frustration and sprinted after him, each breath burning in his lungs. He was heading back in the direction of the crevice where the little girl ghost had been sobbing.

"Dammit!"

As he burst into the clearing around the hill, Jesse recognized the place. Of course, before, Luke's dead body hadn't been lying there nearly sliced in half. Bryan lay blubbering about fifteen feet from him, the male ghost above him, swinging up his ax. Without thinking, Jesse raced forward, grabbed the handle, and yanked it. He was shocked when it came loose but he only had a moment of surprise before the ghost roared and spun around, backhanding him to the ground.

Rolling over with a groan, Jesse didn't even have time to blink before the ghost was on top of him, fingers digging into his throat. The shotgun blasted out again, but this time the ghost had been expecting it and merely blinked out of existence, appearing just behind Ben. The younger man turned sharply, knowing his gun would simply go through the ghost with little consequence but unable to stop the instinct to swing anyway. The ghost grinned ferally at him, bringing up an arm to hit him as well before fire engulfed him and he howled in rage, promptly disappearing in a flash of black smoke.

Ben stared at the empty space, his pulse roaring in his ears before he turned back to the other two men. Aside from the sobbing one and the nosy one staring up at him in bewilderment, they both seemed to be breathing. Ben forced himself to take a slow, deep breath, then let it out again. The little girl appeared a few feet away from her hiding place, her form flashing jerky for a moment.

"Where's mommy and daddy?" she asked, her voice touched with an upper New England accent. Ben took a few steps toward her, his expression sympathetic.

"They're gone, Elizabeth," Ben told her gently. "They've gone to Heaven. But the bad guys are gone, too. You don't have to be scared anymore."

Jesse watched blearily from where he lay, his heart giving a twist at how lost the little girl sounded.

"But...why are they in Heaven? I want them with me," Elizabeth said, her face screwing up with tears. Ben settled in a crouch in front of her, his hands coming up to rest on her little forearms.

"They're waiting for you, sweetheart," he replied in the same kind voice. "They've been waiting for you for so long, but you got left behind. All you have to do is go to them."

Her bottom lip trembled. "But I don't know how to go there."

Something inside Ben ached. She'd been in the ravine, scared and alone for over two hundred years. He couldn't imagine how tormenting that must have been on such a young soul.

"Do you believe in God, Elizabeth?" he asked her. Ben himself didn't really have faith anymore, but there was no denying that He existed. Maybe if he worded it right he wouldn't have to be so terribly blunt about her death.

"Yes. God is our Heavenly Father," she said quietly.

"If you pray real hard to see your mommy and daddy, He'll hear you and He'll show you the way. I know He will. You just gotta believe it with your whole heart, and it'll happen. Can you do that, Elizabeth?"

Claire limped into the clearing, shovel and iron poker braced across the back of her shoulders with one hand, where she stopped three steps out of the trees. Her breath still hadn't returned to normal, and despite the spring chill, she was hot with the perspiration from digging up a grave at full fricken speed, but all thoughts of the painful exertion evaporated with what she saw.

Elizabeth nodded, clasping her hands in front of her and bowing her head. Her lips moved silently, he eyes crunched up tight. And then, slowly at first, so that it seemed almost like an illusion, she started to glow. Ben stood up and stepped back, watching as the light enveloped her. She looked up at him just before she faded entirely, a smile pulling at her little mouth and her green eyes bright. Then she was gone, and darkness once again claimed the woods around them.

A bittersweet relief washed over Claire, but in the wake of the adrenalin and two grisly deaths, she couldn't help but feel tired under the weight of her heart. She stabbed the ground with the spade and poker and crossed the clearing to the young man's remains. There, she stooped and using a fold of her jacket to keep from leaving her prints, silently closed his eyes with her thumb.

Jesse breathed out a sigh, tears in his eyes. Through the terror and pain and nausea that had been the night, that one little spark stood out pure and bright and more beautiful than anything he had ever seen.

"Think I like her best," he slurred with a weak smile. Then his eyes closed and he slumped into exhaustion.

* * *

><p>The world was too bright. Jesse scrunched up his eyes, trying to turn away. "Close'acurtains," he mumbled, waving a vague hand.<p>

"They don't close." Claire was sitting at the little hotel room table, backlit by the white-out light of mid-morning, filtered through the not-so-functional gauzy 'privacy' drapes. Her bare feet were propped up on the table top, crossed at the ankle; her laptop set semi-comfortably in her lap, twitching as she jotted a few things down. The tapitty-tap had stopped when their 'guest' sleepily muttered into his pillow, and she was looking his way.

He turned towards the voice, prying one eye open. It fell on Claire for a moment, then he peered around the room. "Usually when I wake up in a hotel with a strange girl and can't remember gettin' there, this ain't how it goes," he said, trying to shift up in bed. Claire snorted comically.

"So how _does_ it usually go?" The tone of her voice made it fairly clear how she viewed being compared to some random one-night-stand.

"Usually there's breakfast?" he said, giving a half-grin. "Also there aren't usually ghosts the night before. I remember the girl going off in a big light. What happened after that?"

"You bit the dust," she explained, a little more gently than the last time she spoke. Claire sat up a bit and set the laptop, closed, on the table. She tucked her legs beneath her on the chair, Indian Style, resting her forearms on the bones of each knee. Claire's face was heavy with shadow thanks to the dark of the room, but her eyes were sharp and locked on him, although her gaze was more curious than threatened. "Your other friend was too messed up to leave anywhere besides the ER and, well-we couldn't really leave you there with him, could we."

Which was probably a good thing. Jesse had never been to a hospital before, and he figured that's the way it should stay. No telling what they might find.

"So you decided to take me along? Well I'd figured you'd fanc-" He stopped halfway into leaning forward, his bladder making itself very known. "Bugger me."

Rolling off the bed, he scrambled for the bathroom, closing the door and just getting the lid up in time. Claire tracked him the whole way, then twitched a minute smirk and shook her head when she caught the hollow echo of porcelain hitting porcelain. She was just starting to get used to cohabitation with Ben-handling two of them wasn't coming anywhere near her mind.

When he came back, she was in the middle of making the _generous_ complimentary two cups of coffee. The mini-Mr. Coffee was gurgling away; Claire bellied up against the counter ledge, twisting her hair in a loose braid over her shoulder. Jesse paused, his eyes traveling over her deft hands, her shoulder, her back. _Hunter, Jesse, keep it straight._

"So, ghosts, huh?" he said. "Bet you deal with those all the time."

Claire had been watching _him watching_ via the mirror in front of her, but said nothing. Nor did she allow her expression to change in any capacity-it required very little effort, by this point in her life. She did crack a half-smile at the oddly _blasé_ tone attached to the sudden 'how'bout those Bears' breed of chitchat, and turned around to face him squarely.

"Enough'a the time, I guess. You deal with hunters a lot?" She didn't say it to be sharp or interrogational. Claire was just a little over-cautious with random people with familiar faces.

"Not a lot. Enough, though," he said with a shrug. "This is my first close encounter with the creepy stuff, though. Was that other lady, at the concert, was she a ghost or demon or something?"

Claire waylaid that question for the time being, instead choosing to concentrate on the topic she brought up. Her brows pushed down above her nose, and the freckles there wrinkled lightly. Claire folded her arms loosely under her breasts.

"Forgive me if I'm curious, but what are you into that exposes you to hunters, but not 'the creepy stuff'?" The coffee machine hissed and spouted steam. She kept her eyes on his until the last moment before angling them down to one of the mugs, which she grabbed and handed to him first. She did still have manners, regardless of the odd situation.

He took the mug, keeping his hands steady. This was why he avoided hunters: They asked the right questions. "I ran into something creepy once. Wasn't a ghost, though. A little personal," he added, hoping that would put her off. He tipped up his mug. "Cheers."

Claire lifted her mug too, though her gesture was much more subdued, and she didn't drink from it just yet. "A _little personal_?" Her expression mixed pure cynicism with a sugar coat of amusement. By experience and personal habit, she searched his face for any specific nuance or tick that could help give her a better read on their guest. He had incredibly intense eyes-made concentrating on the more subtle things a bit more difficult. She bumped off the ledge from her hip and passed him, and headed for her original chair. "When _isn't_ it personal?"

Jesse's jaw tightened, his eyes never leaving hers. "If we're going to swap life stories, I think you ought to go first," he said evenly. Claire scoffed lightly as she sat down and sipped at her coffee. She rolled her lips off the bittersweet residue, feeling them overly warmed by the drink was a subtle comfort she carried from childhood.

"You go'head and think that. I'm not the one _unintentionally_ attracting hunters and 'creepy stuff'."

"Unless you're talking about yourself, I don't attract hunters," he said with an annoyed smirk. He took another big gulp before setting the mug aside. "Thanks for the life-saving and letting me spend the night and all, but I oughta get going."

"You mean, before _last week_, you didn't attract hunters, right?" Skepticism still weighed a little in Claire's voice. She watched him, still and calculated from her chair by the window, sipping again at her coffee. Didn't have to be a psychology expert to know he was holding back, which is exactly why she was pressing-even if it wasn't exactly that hard. In fact, she even cracked a somewhat gentle smile, in spite of the flare of disagreement when he mentioned leaving. She wasn't comfortable with that idea. At all.

"Breakfast'll be here soon anyway. Plus, you haven't told me your name. That's a bit rude to someone who saved your life, don't you think?" she said delicately as the church welcome-lady.

Jesse's mouth quirked in a return smile. His eyes did turn to linger on the door, then back to her. "I'm Jesse. And you, my stalker-hunter friend?"

_Stalker_-hunter? Claire's right brow pushed a little higher than the left, the opposite corner of her lips pulled up as well. She was about to protest that particular title, but a single absent thought shot straight to Ben. She'd been following him the first time they met. Not true with this guy, though.

"I'd say 'guardian angel' is more appropriate, but my name is Claire."

"Good to meet you, angel-Claire," he said, holding out his hand with a smile. She took it with her own slightly warmed grin, her grip heated by the coffee and baring the appropriate amount of strength and demeanor one might expect. The smile faded when other matters at hand returned to her thoughts.

"I'm sorry about your friends." She meant that too. A healthy amount of personal detachment came with her lifestyle, and Claire had gotten very good at letting most emotions roll off her back. Some things were just too hard to ignore-like when she was too late.

His expression drained and he turned back for his coffee. Images he'd been successfully ignoring swarmed back into his head. _Not your fault._ Except it was. Maybe not Stu, but he left Luke alone to get frightened and run right into death.

"I didn't know 'em that well," he said.

"Still stands," Claire said gently, and nudged the chair opposite from her out with the tip of her foot. "I'd like to say I'm not used to meeting people over such... _traumatic_ circumstances, but..." But, Claire didn't really know how to finish that sentence. She glanced out the window through the haze of the drapes, looking for Ben.

Any other topic would be welcome right then. Jesse sat on the offered chair before looking at her. "So what was the story with those ghosts? The older ones were fucking insane, but that kid, she was just like a regular kid."

She looked back at him, for the first time, _completely_ honest in her expression, which was both somber and thankful. Seemed they were on something of the same wave length.

"'Bout the turn of the nineteenth century, the forest preserve belonged to Jacob Kline-he had a wife, Sarah, and a little girl: Elizabeth." Claire shifted on her seat to rest her forearms on the table top. Her fingertips caged her coffee mug, twisting it back and forth between them. She was watching the movement with a slightly cool repose.

"According to the territory records, the Klines just abandoned the property-just up and left. The rumors that the pair of them went insane and started murdering anyone who wandered through their land started after the property changed hands, about three years later. Five years after that, a man caught and condemned for highway robbery confessed to the parish priest that he and three accomplices murdered the Klines and buried them in the woods." Claire rolled her lips after another short sip. All the archival research and dusty library digging she'd done four days ago filed behind her gaze, making it slightly glassy.

"As the years went by, more people turned up bloodied and dead in the woods with no criminals to show for it. More than a few people who had close calls with the Klines started talking about hearing a little girl crying before they were attacked." She shrugged one thin shoulder. The loose braid over it twitched faintly. "Jacob and Sarah were going after anyone who got too close to their little girl."

Jesse stared at her, his brows knit. "They were protecting her?" He licked his lips. "I guess that makes sense. They were human once." She nodded faintly, brushing a piece of pale hair back from her cheek. On the inside of her wrist, a design of dark ink caught the light from the window-an interlocking five point star, circled by the flames of a sun.

"They thought they still were," she added, and brought her eyes up to Jesse's. "But like most cases, they were twisted by what they went through."

Jesse bit his lip. That _in most cases_ was a worrying phrase. "Not that I plan on seeing more ghosts any time soon, but how do you avoid 'em?"

"How do _I_ avoid them?" Claire quirked a brow, the impression of amusement on her face, but just barely.

He smirked. "How does _one_ avoid 'em, grammar nazi?"

This time, the amusement was clear as the snort in the back of her throat. "Why does everyone call me that?" She sipped her coffee again, and just like before, rolled her lips before arching both brows in some mock-defensive gesture. "Far be it for me to _enjoy_ understanding what others say to me-yeesh."

Just then, the door opened and Ben returned, carrying two plastic bags looped over one arm and a paper one tucked against his chest. The room immediately started to fill up with the smell of a greasy breakfast. He shut the door behind him with his foot before bringing the load further into the little motel room to put on the table.

"They didn't have Tropical Skittles, just regular ones," he said as he pulled a bright red package out of one of the bags and tossed it lightly underhand in Claire's direction. She caught it with a distinct six-year-old pout. "Sorry." It was only then that Ben realized Jesse was awake. "Well, look who decided to finally join us."

_Finally?_ Jesse ruffled the back of his hair uncertainly. "How long I been out exactly?"

"Ten, twelve hours maybe?" Claire glanced at Ben for confirmation while tearing into her skittles.

"At least," Ben said with a nod, unpacking the paper bag. Inside it were five wrapped sandwiches and three little pouches of hashbrown-looking things. From the plastic bag he pulled three plastic bottles of juice; the remaining groceries and whatever else were left in the bags for the time being.

Jesse's eyes widened. Definitely explained why he'd had to pee like a racehorse and why his stomach was currently an empty, growling maw. He grabbed one of the sandwiches and mentally tucked away the information. If he knew how bad crossing salt would affect him, it would help to weigh the pros and cons. But then, the two hunters didn't seem all that surprised. Maybe people's bodies tended to shut down after dealing with ghosts.

Taking a big bite, he held out his hand. "Jesse, by the way."

"Ben," the younger man parroted, taking his hand and giving it a firm, brisk shake. He settled in the nearest chair and wasted no time tearing into his own food, though he kept giving sidelong glances at Jesse. "You all caught up?"

"Caught up on which bit?" he said, looking between them, then out the window. "Where are we, anyway?"

"Right outside Kenosha," Claire answered, delicately removing the sausage from her sandwich to set it aside, abandoned. She met Ben's eyes for a brief, but pointed moment, then paid attention to her food. "Only been up for about fifteen minutes."

Ben took the opportunity to swipe up the abandoned breakfast meat, layering it between his sandwich before taking another bite.

Finishing up his first sandwich, Jesse grabbed a second. "So Claire was just about to tell me how I can avoid getting kicked around by ghosts again," he said, shooting her a smile.

"Y'mean aside from avoiding the situations entirely?" Ben said around a mouthful. He paused to swallow, then twisted open one of the bottles of juice and took a swig. "Not all ghosts are bad. Best way to avoid a ghost is to get the hell away from whatever the ghost is haunting. Simple as that, really. It's finding out what that is that's tricky."

"'Specially with _your_ luck..." Claire added on with a knowing glance at Jesse, then took the first bite of her sandwich. Ben looked between the two of them with a slight frown, but didn't say anything and simply grabbed a handful of hashbrown nuggets out of one of the pouches.

"Hey, these have been a crazy couple of weeks for me, not the average. It's what I get for coming to America, I guess," he said with a snort.

"Thought I heard a bit of an accent there," Ben commented around another mouthful of food. He waited again until he swallowed before continuing on. "So what was the deal at that concert?"

Jesse tilted his head. "Whatcha mean? I was just there to see a couple of bands. What were you all doing there? That woman didn't feel like a ghost, that's for sure."

"She wasn't." Plain and simple, Claire answered after swallowing. She looked up at Ben through her lashes to gauge where he was on the amount of information about to be given, or asked about.

Ben gave her a small, almost indiscernible head shake. "Unless you're lookin' for a crash course in Hunting 101, the short answer is she was a monster and she was dealt with." He looked at Jesse a little more critically. "How'd you make the crowd just part for you like that? I was shouting and shoving like I was on fire, but nobody moved for me at all. All you did was give one good shout and it was like watching the Red Sea parting."

Jesse shrugged. "Maybe they heard me say she took my wallet. Though you'd think someone would've had the balls to try to stop her. And what d'you mean 'dealt with'? Was she a demon?" Had they found him? He should have thought of the possibility soon as he found out they were hunters, but he'd been a bit busy with the running and screaming.

Claire ground to a soundless halt, mid-chew, her eyes fixed on Jesse. Ben also grew dead silent, putting down his sandwich.

"First you know about hunters, and now you know about demons?" Ben asked, all good humor in his voice gone. All his warning bells were going off in his head.

Looking up from his sandwich, Jesse's eyes met Ben's, then Claire's. "Whoa, hey, the two are related. My...my mum was possessed by a demon," he said, his shoulders tensing. With them so on edge, he was going to stick to the truth. Or at least a version of it. "That's how I met hunters. What did you think I was saying?"

Something deep inside Claire twisted uncomfortably with the small tidbit of Jesse's background. She said nothing, though. Only swallowed the bite in her mouth and snagged a quick gulp from her juice, then got up from the table and quietly retreated to the bathroom.

Ben followed her out of his line of sight with a concerned frown, his body going tense for a moment as though he planned to follow after her before he relaxed again. _She needs a moment alone. She'll be okay,_ he told himself, turning his gaze back to Jesse. His expression hardened a little.

"I hope you're not lying," Ben said in a low voice. "Because I really don't wanna have to lose the security deposit on this room."

"Yeah, y'know, just because you saved my life don't mean you get to threaten it," Jesse said, stress working his jaw. He glanced at the bathroom door. "I was eleven, and it was the worst day of my life. Fucking end of my childhood, that's for sure."

"Yeah well, demons lie," Ben replied harshly. "They lie about everything: every word, every emotion, every thing they are is a lie. And if you knew a damn thing about demons, you'd know that. I have every right to threaten you if I'm feeling threatened, so you should be damn thankful I'm not tryin' to tie you down or exorcise you right now, even though every instinct inside me is screaming to."

"She put me in a circle of salt!" Jesse snapped. He really had to rein in the instinct just to blink out of there and be done with it. Not in front of hunters. That would get him marked for sure. And storming out wasn't on the table, with their devil's snare in front of the door, so all he had on his side was logic. "Last night, Claire put salt around us to keep us safe from the ghosts. If I'm a demon, how'd I get out, huh-?"

"The line was broken when we got back to the camp," Ben interrupted heatedly.

"Then why didn't I just leave this body behind? Because it's _my_ body. I'm not a damn demon!"

"Prove it," Ben demanded.

"Fine. Exorcise me," Jesse said, throwing out his arms. "Tie me up if you want or whatever, doesn't matter, I'll just sit here. But go ahead and do that ritual and the Latin words. I'll still be here when you're done."

"Fine," Ben spat. He got up from his seat roughly, but rather than go through the efforts of tying him up, Ben simply crowded into his personal space, grabbing either of his arms firmly and getting right up close as he started off the Latin incantation.

Forcing his body to stay loose even though he wanted to shove Ben away, Jesse didn't so much as blink. As the incantation went on, he smirked and leaned a little bit closer, his nose just a hair's breadth from Ben's.

Ben's face was flushed by the time he was finished, both from anger and embarrassment that he'd been proven wrong. Just for clarity's sake, he grabbed each of Jesse's arms in turn and inspected them quickly. No seals. He didn't react violently however, simply pulling his hands off the other man and stepping away from him. His face was pinched in an attempt to keep from scowling.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"...what the _hell_?" Claire had emerged from the bathroom just in time to see Ben roughly pull away.

Looking over at her, Jesse's smirk just widened. "Your boyfriend's a bit friskier than I'd've expected."

Ben's face went from flushed to full-on crimson at the remark and the scowl he'd been holding back bloomed on his face. Without looking at either of them he grabbed up the two grocery bags and stormed into the tiny kitchenette to start shoving things into cabinets and the little mini fridge.

Jesse laughed, pushing to his feet and turning to Claire. "Ben decided I had to be a demon or something, so I invited him to exorcise me. Didn't take." His expression slowly sobered though. He had a pretty good idea why she had to leave the room when he talked about a demon possessing his mom. It made him feel like shit. Worse, it made him want to talk with her about it. But then, that's why she left the room, right? Because she didn't want to talk. Swallowing it down, he sat cross-legged on his bed. "Anything else you want to test me for? Would be a different twist on Hunting 101, I take it."

Claire had quickly recovered from her general confusion and oddly placed upset at what she'd just walked in on, mainly because of the subtle smugness on Jesse's face. It didn't reach his eyes, but it was still there. Ben didn't exactly go around forcing exorcisms on anyone who looked vaguely suspicious; he had to have thought there was good reason. Claire followed Jesse with the angle of her body, her expression slowly steeled.

"You make him nervous; so you think it's a good idea to goad him?"

Jesse's jaw tightened. "He was being a dick. How would you feel, huh, if someone said you were lying about your mum? Accused _you_ of being a demon? Would you take it with a calm little smile?"

"Or laugh in his face when you proved him wrong?" Claire shot back without missing a beat. Her blood pressure jumped when he used the idea of her and her mother in the analogy. Right as he may have been, it didn't exactly work to his favor. "Then joke -_badly_- about it?" Claire snagged one of the table chairs with the tip of her boot and dragged it across the carpet to where she stood. The tension the whole situation had caused started to bleed through into her actions. They were sharp, and purposeful. She threw her good leg over and sat facing the seat, her arms folding on the fake-wood spine.

"Lemme fill you in on something, Jesse: We don't normally make a habit of taking in any random stray who happens to be caught in the middle of some job. There's something _off_ about you, and that starts ringing bells, y'know?" They'd checked his wallet when he'd passed out to see where he lived, and it had been empty. She tipped her head a little, locked and unrelenting, despite the knot of nerves tangling in the pit of her stomach.

"So you're not a demon. _Fantastic._ Should we start at the top of the list to find out what you're hiding, or you just wanna tell us and save everyone some time?"

Jesse scowled, his heart upping the tempo with every word. This was starting to get screwy. He could duck into the bathroom and disappear, only it had no window and so there would still be questions and hunting and damned if he wasn't sick of it all. Damned either way, actually.

He took a deep breath. "Before we get to the poking and prodding, can I take a step back and say I'm sorry that I ruffled your feathers? Had a bad couple of days, and I'm stressing 'cuz you people - hunters - you make me nervous. You're tough shit and I don't know how the rules work in your world, so I don't know when, in your eyes, I cross over the line. I make you nervous, you make me nervous, we're on pretty even footing here." His eyes darted between them, still trying to think over what he was going to say.

Ben had finished the task of putting everything away much too quickly and had been watching in the space between the cabinets and the countertops, his eyes hard and focused on the man while he spoke. He could see the tension in his shoulders, hear the uneasiness in his tone, and it was only with that careful, well-worded response that Ben felt any of the agitation ease out of him.

He still didn't like the bastard, though. Lying or not, he had a mouth on him that Ben knew was nothing but trouble. His eyes moved to Claire's in a wordless inquiry. The look she returned was uncertain, but at least on some level a little more in control of her initial anxiety. Claire looked back at Jesse, her eyes were a hair or two softer than before.

"Fair enough," she continued, her voice containing a little more breath than normal. It was her attempt to further settle the tightness in her gut. "There aren't many 'rules in our world' to remember-just that what could seem like paranoia to most people has kept us alive on more than a few occasions. Its not an instinct we take lightly. Also, I'm sure you could've guessed that this isn't exactly a life someone tries to get a scholarship for. You don't just decide to go looking for vampires or demons or homicidal ghosts on a whim. We-" Claire tipped her head at Ben, but kept her eyes on Jesse, "-aren't really in it for the 401K or health insurance. So casual joking from someone who's got _no idea_ what it's like definitely 'ruffles our feathers'."

"Alright. No more joking," Jesse said, his voice heavy with promise. He pursed his lips, looking at Ben a moment. Then he licked his lips and looked down at the bed. "I've always had these... abilities. Super powers." His mouth quirked in a half smile before it faded. "Didn't know I had 'em at first, but I was already affecting things. My parents couldn't do it. Just me. And then my mum got possessed by a demon, and it was my fault. A couple of hunters came, talked with me, told me I had a choice. You can do good or evil, with great power comes great responsibility, that kind of thing. So I chose good. Not gonna pretend I'm perfect. I fucked up some as a kid. But I've got it under control now. I'm good, and I never hurt anyone. I don't know what the powers are about, but I don't really care. I just wanna be normal."

Ben came around the other side of the counter silently, moving back over to his chair and the rapidly-cooling breakfast foods. He wasn't sure what to think about the new information, other than the fact that it sounded like a crossover with their world and Marvel Comic's _Spider-Man_. The comment about two hunters stuck out in his head, though, and the same creeping sensation he'd gotten in the car with Claire on their first stakeout was coming back to him again.

Claire's eyes glimmered with a potent mix of caution and curiosity, on top of the acute sharpness common when she was searching someone's face for clues of deception or honesty. It was a fantastic claim, but he talked about it like a benign tumor that kept growing back. She watched him for a few beats longer, then flicked a glance at Ben before returning it to Jesse.

"Can you show me something?" she asked cautiously, but her voice was no longer hard.

No torches and pitchforks; that was a good sign. Leaning forward, he slid his wallet from his jeans pocket. He opened it and held it out for them, revealing that it was completely empty. No identification, no cash, no cards. He closed it, and resisted the temptation to say, _"Nothing up my sleeve."_ Opening it out for them again, the wallet was filled. He held it out for Claire.

"It's not an illusion or anything. It's real. You can have the cash."

She took it gingerly, as if the thing would disappear in a puff of smoke if she handled it too roughly. No small amount of surprise and deliberation brightened her gaze. Claire straightened her shoulders and pulled them back from the chair-spine, looking wide-eyed at Ben.

There was just something so _wrong_ about all of this. Being able to make something out of thin air like that? Weren't there laws about how everything had to come from somewhere? It defied everything about how the world worked, and everything inside Ben told him to get him and Claire away from this stranger. They'd run into him twice, within days. This wasn't a happy coincidence; this was an omen.

"We don't need your money," Ben said flatly. It was the first thing he'd said in over twenty minutes.

Jesse looked over at him, hearing the rejection in his voice. Not that he expected anything different, not from a hunter, but there was a little twist in his chest. All that was left was how much of a rejection. "So. What're you going to do with me now?"

Claire inhaled deep and released the breath slowly, flaring her nostrils. Her apprehension ran thick through her veins, laced with the bite of uncertainty. She met Jesse's too-intense eyes and handed the wallet back. She couldn't deny the first thing she wanted to do was hop on her laptop and start searching, but that didn't answer his question. Claire didn't know how to answer it, either.

"'Scuse us for a minute?" she suggested gently, rising to her feet with a pointed look at Ben. Ben stood as well, frowning slightly. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of Jesse being alone in their room with all their stuff so easily accessible, but he didn't say so aloud.

Ben waited until Claire had disappeared into the bathroom before pausing to speak to Jesse directly.

"We do what we have to because we wanna help keep people safe, not because we wanna be thanked," he clarified. It hadn't been hard to miss Jesse's reaction to his prior words. He took a breath as if he wanted to add on to that, but then he let it out and shook his head. "There's still another sandwich and those hashbrown things and juice. Have as much as you want. We'll be back inna sec."

Jesse nodded, though he knew this was his out. They probably knew that. He was unsettling and they probably didn't want him sticking around, so he'd take the out. But not before he had to. As soon as the door was closed he padded over to it, listening close. And when Jesse wanted to hear something, he heard it. His ears didn't mess around.

Claire's look of apprehension hadn't dissolved in the slightest; tension pooled between her shoulder blades and made them shift uncomfortably against the drywall she leaned against. There wasn't much room to go anywhere else-especially with both of them. The sound of running water echoed in the small tiled space of the bathroom when Ben turned it on full force. Her brows pinched together in a clear look of questioning when she met his eyes.

"My mom was nosy," he explained in a loud whisper. Rather than risk her asking him to repeat himself, Ben moved in close so that they were nearly standing chest to chest, then crouched slightly so he could speak in her ear.

"What're you thinkin'?"

Her first thought was somewhere along the lines of _several things_, but surprisingly a few new ideas that had nothing to do with the mystery waiting on the other side of the door were included in that list, sparked by Ben's inevitable proximity. Claire's breath held for a beat, her eyes focused intently over his shoulder at the cheesy hotel art on the wall behind him.

_Focus_, the thought repeated to herself, closing her eyes slowly, then setting them back on his face. "Nothin' we can just walk away from."

"Honestly, I'd rather we just walk away," he admitted in a low voice. "If he's not causin' any problems, he's not our problem." Claire swallowed something uncomfortable in her throat. She gently leaned her head back against the wall.

"Maybe. Doesn't help me feel any better, though."

Ben frowned slightly, pressing his lips into a thin line as he looked at her. "I know," he admitted at last. "It's kind of... weird. Like, even for us weird. I swear I've heard this sorta stuff before, but I can't remember where. I'll have to go through my journal and see." He deeply regretted not having grabbed it before joining her.

"We can't just..._keep him_ here," she added quietly. Claire shook her head faintly. She looked honestly lost. "I have no idea what to do."

Ben nodded in agreement. They couldn't keep him while they researched what he was, assuming they found anything at all. That would be going against his will and so long as he was telling the truth, Ben didn't like the way holding someone hostage tasted in his mouth. They would need to keep tabs on him, most definitely, but they could do that without having him right there.

Plus, Ben wasn't even sure he _wanted_ him there. They could send word out through Claire's contacts to be on the look out for him, as Ben didn't really have any. All he wanted was to get away from this Weirdness magnet; they had plenty of their own crap to handle without adding another layer to it.

"Yeah," he said at last. Claire just looked at him for a moment of silence. Clearly his uncertain agreement didn't settle anything. They were lost together.

"Y'know, that line from X-Men he spouted about responsibility and all that-you don't think..."

Ben groaned. "It was from _Spider-Man,_" he exclaimed quietly. "That's it, I'm taking away your pop culture referencing privileges." Claire gave him a mock-scornful look.

"Whatever. You get my point."

"That he was delivering a line?" Ben's expression darkened just a little for a brief moment. "Yeah, maybe. But it's also possible he was just reachin' for somethin' familiar. People do that when they're scared. Just because he's got powers or whatever doesn't mean he can't still be creeped out. Like I said: if he isn't causin' trouble, no reason we can't get as far the hell away from him as we can."

She went still for a few beats, turning the words over and over in her head and gaining absolutely no satisfaction or dawning moment. It was frustrating-the whole messed up _situation_ was frustrating, but the logic in Ben's words had appeal. Claire sighed silently and shifted weight against the wall, chewing on her bottom lip in the process.

"You're right," she hushed finally, and put her faith into that hope. It helped a little. Ben gave her a nod and pulled back, bringing up a hand to rest on her arm. His thumb made a short trail back and forth before he gave it a squeeze and let go. Her eyes had closed for a second or two, only to open when the change of atmosphere around her shifted, and she knew he pulled away.

"Y'know I've got your back," he told her with assurance, stepping back far enough to turn off the faucet. She half-smiled at him, but her eyes were honest, and more expressive than she figured any words would be. Claire pushed off the wall and opened the door, holding it for both of them to pass.

When they moved back into the room however, it was empty. The food remained where it was, untouched. Ben immediately had a flash of paranoia and hurried over to his bag, opening it and rifling through the contents; Claire did the same. Nothing appeared to be missing. Ben looked up at Claire with a frown.

"Well, guess that's that, then."

She nodded, pressing her lips together and rolling them inward. Guess it _was_ that. But the sudden disappearance without even a goodbye or a thank-you didn't make the anxious twist in her stomach any less noticeable.


	5. Deleted Scene: Every Time We Touch

Claire didn't like loose ends, and the tall order passed out on the second hotel bed was one of the biggest she'd had to deal with in a long time. Her eyes wandered over the worn photographs between her fingers-the only things they'd been able to find in the guy's wallet. No ID, no credit cards or even cash. Just some worn pictures depicting a child-obviously himself-and a few unknown adults.

"You're saying the crowd just..._obeyed him_?" She looked up at Ben from her heavy lean on the side of the table. She heard the sound of him spitting in the sink, then a brief on-and-off from the faucet before he came back into view again.

"Never saw anything like it," he replied with a nod. He'd already had his turn in the bathroom cleaning up and dressing down for the night, once they'd both checked each other for any serious wounds or injuries that needed treatment. The skin around her stitches had been angry and red. They'd been lucky she hadn't split them open in her exertion.

Claire rolled her lips and stared back down at the pictures, at an impasse. That was just too big'a something to ignore, and now-running into him for the second time in less than a week? That didn't happen in their world unless there was a damned good reason. She shook her head and pushed off the table, the wallet reassembled and pushed halfheartedly back into the sleeping stranger's back pocket on her way to the bathroom. The throb and heat from the week-old bullet wound had dissolved into a dull roar since the Vicodin she popped once back at the hotel, but she still favored that leg.

"He do anything else when I was digging up 'Daddy'?" She paused next to him, but Claire's eyes were on her own reflection in the full length mirror on the bathroom door, trained on the dark ruddiness that stretched from her right knee to the black cotton boy shorts at her hip. Her nose wrinkled with clear disdain. Ben moved around her effortlessly, heading back into the bedroom. He paused next to the sleeping man's form, then carefully pulled away one pillow and the top of the two blankets that they'd roughly covered him with.

"He grabbed the ax out of his hand," Ben said thoughtfully. "Don't think I've ever seen _that_ done before, but really he kinda... wasn't that helpful. He knew what hunters were and last week he parted the crowd. It's all a bit too coincidental for my taste." She stepped into the bathroom and nudged the door almost shut, but was replaying what he'd just said in her head.

"Wait, he grabbed the ax out of _a ghost's hand_?" Deadly as the thing was, it was still a piece of the spirit itself. Claire flipped the faucet in the tub on and peeled off the dirt and sweat grimed clothes that remained. "What happened to it when Jacob burned?"

"It went with him when he phased up behind me," Ben explained, leaning against the wooden molding around the almost-closed door. He didn't dare look in through the crack. "So I assume it went up with him."

The heat from the shower melted at least a little tension from her shoulders after she carefully stepped inside. It weighed down her hair and brought a good ending to the day-at least as good as it was going to get, with two kids dead and a blue-eyed anomaly sleeping on their extra bed. Claire pushed her hands over her hair from her brow, sleeking it back under the cone of water. "Still, that's a-" She hissed suddenly, closing her words off in discomfort. The water had only then gotten to her stitches, and stung like Hell. "-new one."

"You okay?" he asked quickly, concern coloring the words.

"Never better," she deadpanned with a tight voice, but it wasn't without it's humor. "Remind me never to get shot again."

Ben smirked slightly, then turned his head to look around the room. There wasn't a couch, which really limited things. There was, however, two club chairs on either side of the table by the window and a wooden chair next to the little desk. Maybe he could build himself a little cot from that.

_Should've just dumped the guy on the floor,_ he thought with a mild streak of bitterness, turning away from the door to start preparing the 'bed' as necessary. Ten minutes later, the water turned off in the bathroom; the sound of the shower curtain being moved and a towel being snapped preceded a clean, and slightly pinkened Claire into the main room, wrapped in the pale green hotel towel supported by one hand at her chest. The other dug through her nearby bag for clean clothes.

Ben turned briefly to ask her some sort of inane question, but immediately forgot how to form a sentence when he saw her. The towel left her barely decent. Flustered, he quickly turned his eyes back to his now-finished bed and attempted to get into it without pushing both chairs further apart. The odd rustling noise and the sound of shifting furniture drew Claire's attention, and her eyebrows lifted when she saw what he was doing.

"...you building a fort?" she asked with a faint smile, then turned back into the bathroom to put on her clothes.

"Hey, don't knock it, blanket forts are cool," he called after her. Of course, he hadn't made a blanket fort since he was eight, but the rules still applied. A moment later, she emerged from the bathroom again, sleeper shorts and a _very_ old looking PEZ candy tee shirt, damp at the shoulders because of her hair.

"Seriously, what are you doing?" she asked with a snerk, and no small amount of light curiosity. She eased gently on the edge of the unoccupied bed and dug a rolled gauze bandage out of the med kit at her feet.

"Well I'm not sleeping on the floor," he said with just a twinge of annoyance, his eyes landing on the man currently sprawling on his bed as if he'd done him a personal injustice, which he sort of had.

Claire used her good leg to push herself back on the bed so she was closer to the headboard, and looked over the healing gash in her thigh from a better angle. "Don't be stupid-there's plenty of room on this one. Y'know... I think I'm gonna take these damn things out."

Ben turned to look at her with widening eyes. "What?" he blurted.

She looked up at him, her brows delicately arched. "The stitches. Help me take'em out? They're doing more harm than good at this point."

"No, not-" he took a labored breath, then his brows knit together. "The doctor said they're self-dissolving, leave 'em alone. Whadya mean, there's plenty of room?"

Claire scoffed a little, looking back at her very sore leg and muttering something to herself about how doctors know _everything_, but caved to the advice anyway and started to wrap the torn muscle in glean gauze.

"I mean it'd be pretty counterproductive for you to get no sleep because of some archaic apprehension about sleeping next to me." Her eyes flitted up to him again, honest and trusting. "Unless you think the blanket fort'd be more comfortable."

_Oh, there's nothing archaic about morning wood, sweetheart,_ Ben thought flippantly, just barely managing to keep from blurting the thought out aloud. He would absolutely need to put a pillow between them, just to be safe.

"Uh..." he babbled. "Y-...yeah. Okay." She smirked lightly at him, then went back to watching what her hands were doing.

"Geeze, I'm not gonna bite you."

"I know that," he muttered, grabbing up the extra blanket and pillow before taking the few necessary steps required to walk over to her bed. _Her_ bed. Where she had slept the night before, except alone. Her hair was still wet. He forced himself to breathe normally.

_God, when did you become such a twelve-year-old girl?_ he asked himself critically. _Besides, girls freakin' love me, what difference does this make? We're just gonna sleep. It's **Claire**, for Chrissakes._

Claire tucked the bandage in on itself and slipped her feet under the covers when they shifted with him. Though she was doing a decent job of keeping her thoughts strict to the logic of the situation, the little twist in her stomach couldn't be denied, or helped. She sat up still, the curve of her back against the headboard, her fingers combed through her hair to keep busy, and braid it loosely over one shoulder in order to dry as they slept. They'd been physically close before, namely when he was sewing her leg shut. This was a bit different...

"We'll see whats up with him in the morning," she added to a sentence that hadn't been spoken, and switched off the lamp.

Ben shoved the pillow in the space between them and settled with his back to her, if only so he wouldn't have her filling his vision. It didn't stop the fact that he could still feel the heat radiating off of her. Images flooded his mind unbidden despite his best efforts, and no matter how tightly he screwed his eyes shut or tried to think of other things, nothing would make them fade. Maybe this was a bad idea. At the very least, it was highly unlikely that he'd be able to sleep at all.

Before Claire settled deeper under the covers, she shook another thick, white pill from the orange prescription bottle on the night stand, and swallowed it without a drink. She stilled on her side; in order to keep her weight off the stitches, which meant she was facing Ben's shoulders, and the pillow he'd stuffed between them.

By the time the cottony haze of Vicodin filtered through her system and lulled her to sleep, Claire had one arm draped over that pillow, clutching it to her chest.

Ben felt her hand between the pillow and his back and tensed slightly before relaxing and turning to look at her sleeping face. Just like before, her face had smoothed and relaxed in sleep, serene and beautiful. He watched her for a few minutes in silence before finally allowing his own eyes to close.

A faint wash of white light filtered through the crack in the thick hotel curtains. Morning came with the sounds of thunder and rain in the distance, which somehow made the contrast between the cool room and the warmth under the covers. Sometime during the night in the shifts of sleep, the pillow boundary pushed between them had become useless. Claire was still sound asleep, unaware that she was using one of Ben's biceps as a pillow. Among the blankets, their legs had twisted together. Ben felt awareness slowly filtering into him and he took a deep breath through his nose. The air was sweet, floral, nothing like he remembered it being when he'd fallen asleep. Everything felt wonderfully warm. In an attempt to hold back alertness just a moment longer he screwed his eyes shut, burrowing further into the pillow and the source of the lovely smell.

The deeper crease in the pillow pulled her brow forward a tad, and Claire's sleeping breaths changed from slow and steady to deep and a bit uneven, but her eyes were still closed. The Vicodin was still lingering in her system, holding on to sleep as long as possible. Her leg shifted between his, drawing up at the knee an inch or two before she settled again.

It was that subtle shift of skin-against-skin that had Ben's eyes suddenly snapping open. Her face was literally inches away from his. Ben froze for all of three seconds before he stared to very, very carefully untangle himself from her. That tiny amount of consciousness slowly bringing Claire around registered movement, and didn't like it. Her face tightened a little as her shoulder rolled back, taking the rest of her with it. A little flash of sharp discomfort shot through her leg when his knee brushed in the wrong place. Claire sucked in a tense breath, at the end of which, she finally opened her eyes. They were still glassy and tired, and hidden again when she draped her arm over them, reluctant to fully wake.

The break-away was just the right amount needed to not look suspicious as he pushed himself up on his side and touched her shoulder gently.

"You okay?" he said in a creaky voice.

His voice filtered through the rest of her mental fog, and slowly burned it away. Claire took a slow breath in, and fought the urge to just go back to sleep. "Funky dreams."

"You can sleep a bit longer if y'want," he murmured. "I'm gonna go get breakfast, kay?" It would give him some time to get out of the hotel and separate himself from what he'd just woken up to and all the torrential emotions that came with it. Claire dropped her arm from her eyes and rubbed them with a thumb and finger. It didn't help much.

"Keys'er on the table," she breathed, pushing herself up to sit. Only then did she catch the oddly avoiding look on his face through the sleep-loosed pieces of her hair. There was that knot in her stomach, but she swallowed it down and cleared her throat quietly before flashing a tired smile. "No sausage for me."

In spite of himself, Ben snickered at the comment. Some of the anxiety in him eased. "Egg only, gotcha." _Story of my life,_ he added inwardly. He grabbed a pair of jeans out of his bag and headed for the bathroom to change quickly.


	6. Episode 3: RPattz is a Douchebag

Lei _hated_ standing in line, especially when it was cold as a witch's tit outside. Milwaukee March's weren't exactly known for their kind and gentle warm breezes, and tonight was especially frigid after last week's odd heat wave. Still, the nursing student whose parents lived the American Dream after immigrating from China before the birth of their baby girl couldn't resist taking advantage of her night off to check out _Daybreakers_.

Inside was much warmer, considerably so after the first couple drinks. Apparently it was Ladies Night, or Nursing Student's Night-whatthehellever. Lei had been a bit of a party-girl in her undergrad years, and she couldn't remember better prices. Or better looking bar tenders. She smiled at him for the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes as he lead her toward the darkly lit VIP section behind the velvet curtain, happily enjoying the buzz that made the last week of studying melt away in a cottony haze. Her feet were killing her, but it was the price to pay for fashion, and she was damned well taking full advantage of her best stilettos tonight.

The throb of the club beat drowned out almost all communication, and it didn't fade by much even as they reached the far end of a long string of privacy booths. The Bartender stepped up into the little space, holding a hand out to help her in more easily. The spindly young woman accepted with a leaning smile, and a subtle list in her balance.

"Who'm I supposed to be waiting for?" She all but shouted at him over the music, and could barely hear her own voice. Bartender hottie leaned in to speak directly into her ear, and the touch of his skin against hers was surprisingly cold but nice in the thick heat of the club.

"You'll know him when you see him," he told her, then pulled out and left her alone.

Lei twisted the little straw in her cocktail between the pads of her fingertips between sips. Her dark eyes swivelled toward the mist-strewn dance floor just barely shadowed by the tinted glass wall that separated it from this little nook of privacy. She remembered a mirror there on the other side-a one way, obviously. _Voyeur's dream..._She snerked to herself with that thought, and slumped against the cushion with a renewed impatience sweeping the scattered patrons with her eyes.

That's when she saw him. The Bartender had been dead on. He seem to radiate allure and confidence, the crowd of pulsing bodies bending around him like water around stone as he made his way through it. As he moved, he connected eyes with her through the screen. Lei's perfectly manicured brows arched.

_Can he see me?_ Maybe she'd been wrong about the mirror, but who the fuck cared? She found her smile was automatic and warm as the heavy booze and raspberry smoke atmosphere on the floor. One small hand cradled her drink while the other brushed back the sleek swoop of dark hair on her cheek. He appeared in the little booth in a matter of moments. He had an ageless quality to him; when he turned his eyes up to her, he could have been twenty-two, but when he angled his body into hers and slid up against her, his profile looked closer to thirty.

"How has your night been so far, Lovely Lei?"

_Bold_ didn't seem to do the man's method justice, but _'effective'_ definitely did. Lei felt her blood pressure skyrocket when he closed the distance between their hips. _Christ_, it'd been way too long since she got out and actually had a little random fun. The thought turned what should've been an alarm at his knowing her name into nothing more than a coy, curious lilt to her head.

"Going much better, _now_..." Her tilted smile opened a little, and she stirred her empty drink with it's straw. "We've met before?" _Cause I sure as hell would've remembered._

"Oh, no," he murmured. Even the quietness of his voice seemed to cut through the heady music. "But I know you. I've been watching you for a while, in fact." She watched him for a half-a-beat longer than anticipated.

"S'that right?" _Now_ a couple of soft alarm bells were going off in the back of her mind, but after three martini's, her reaction to them was a tad delayed. The spike of heat in her blood flushed her cheeks and the hollow above her collarbone. Lei felt her breathing alter just a little-like she'd almost taken a bad step. "How'd I get so lucky?" Maybe it was just a cute come-on.

His lips curved in a smile as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the curve of her throat. "Some would call it fate," he said, pressing a second kiss lower. "Others might call it a well-organized accident." His lips were cold, like he'd been sucking on an ice cube for the last ten minutes, but it could've just been the contrast. Lei _did_ feel in the grips of a sudden fever, which spread, ironically, from the chill his kisses shot down her spine.

"Organized by you?" She let out a scant breath and felt her grip on the empty glass tighten a little. Nerves or _severe_ interest tightened as heated wire behind her ribs.

She felt him chuckle. "Perhaps," he said into the crook of her neck. His tongue found the deep central vein of her throat and traced it upward, all the way to her earlobe. "But it was more than worth it. You are beyond perfect. I will savor this."

More chills, more tightened breaths, _more alarm bells_. Through the filter of her buzz, prey-animal instincts were easily confused with the common bundle of nerves that made this _very_ unexpected turn of her evening so enticing. Her eyes had closed the moment his lips touched her throat the second time. Now they opened, barely focused on nothing in particular through thick lashes. His last words ran through her head again and again, as she naturally tried to pick them apart for meaning. The longer it eluded her, the faster her pulse began to race.

His lips rested against the vein and he smiled against her neck, one hand coming up to stroke through her hair as he took a deep breath. His hand came up over her mouth as his lips parted. It took the electric pulses in Lei's nerves just a little longer than normal to send the message to her brain, but once it clicked, that tiny bit of enticing fear enveloped any bit of mystery. She stiffened against him faintly, and moved to peel his palm away from her lips. His hand only sealed against her mouth more firmly at her attempt.

"That's right," he murmured again. "You should be afraid. I want you to be afraid of me. It'll taste all the better." Then there was nothing but blinding pain.

Her scream was swallowed into nothing more than background noise to the music and the explosion of terror and agony in Lei's head. She felt her skin tear under too many, too sharp teeth-her body went rigid and thrashed uselessly in the grip of the booth and _him_.

* * *

><p>Ben awoke blearily to music. Or more specifically, humming. Humming made louder by the echoing cadence of the bathroom door being open. He turned his head away from the direction of the noise and grunted in displeasure, grabbing a pillow and covering his head.<p>

"S'turly!" he muffled in protest. The humming stopped, followed by Claire peeking out of the open door. Her hair, usually twisted in it's natural, slightly chaotic curl, was sleekly straightened by her careful efforts with a round brush and a hairdryer. She was also wearing earrings, and a dress, and a subtle smirk derived from the state of disaster he had managed to turn his bed into.

"You'll live," she said, sweet as cayenne spiked hot chocolate. Her heels clicked on the bathroom tile, then disappeared onto the carpet as she crossed the room and leaned over her open laptop to check something.

Ben simply groaned again. She'd tried to weasel him into going with her the night before, but he'd changed the subject by talking about the case they were investigating. There were six missing persons, four females and two males, all in their 20s but without any obvious link between them. He'd stayed up four hours after she'd gone to sleep, sitting on the floor in the bathroom in an attempt to give her some quiet so she could rest. Apparently that favor was worthless. He made a mental note to pay her back for the early wake-up call at a later date.

If anything, it was her general cheeriness that made it all the worse. People should not have been allowed to be that cheery in the morning on _any_ day of the week.

"A plague on both your houses," he muffled into his pillow again. Claire rolled her eyes.

"Your enthusiasm is catchy," she offered dryly, then shut the laptop with a gentle click. Claire looked over the dark tee shirt tangled in blankets and sheets, with the shock of wild brown hair peeking over the pillow he used to escape the light. Her sense of sympathy was bittersweet; she'd hoped he would go to Mass with her this time. Whenever she was able to make a service, it always 'recharged her spiritual batteries', so to speak, and Claire wanted to share that with him. That she knew he had no interest in going was a soft blow, but she had to admit: Ben's over-tired groaning was pretty adorable.

She headed back for the bathroom with a soft, defeated breath, but took the opportunity to lightly graze her fingernails up the spine of his exposed foot as she passed, just for good measure. He squeaked and recoiled like a girl. "I'll bring back food."

"I love you like the sun loves the flower," he declared, then took a moment to properly untangle himself and pull both the blanket and his pillow over his head. Claire continued to half-smirk, half-smile in the bathroom mirror, polishing herself with the finishing touches of lip gloss and a quick pantie-hose check. She stepped back toward the door, threading on the nice wool trench coat she used for anything where her worn canvass parka would bring unnecessary attention.

"I'll give the police chief your warmest regards then," Claire teased with a slightly tipped smile as she reached for the door. "Never misses a service."

"Tell 'im I'm Jewish or somethin'," Ben muffled one last time, making a very definitive shooing motion with his hand from under the pile of the pillow and blanket.

* * *

><p>Two and a half hours later, Claire finagled the drink tray and plastic bags in her hands to slide the key-card through their door's lock. She wound inside, welcomed by the warmth. Spring may've been around the corner, but Milwaukee wasn't known for giving in to more delicate weather without a fight. The wind was blasting outside, and had had it's way with her hair and dress more than a few times that morning.<p>

Ben was hard at work behind the computer screen, his sprawling outline of print-offs, news clippings, pictures, and connecting yarn displayed like a mixed media portrait on the wall behind him. Four different newspapers were in shreds next to him on the table, and his face was cast in the off-color electronic light emitted from the screen. He made a noise of greeting, but otherwise didn't look up.

_We're talking in grunts now?_ Claire mused to herself, a smirk turned in his direction as she set the spread of food on the hotel table, then started peeling off her coat. "You would not believe the level of donut variety here..."

At the mention of food, Ben finally tore his eyes away from the screen. He'd already eaten what was left of the leftover pizza they'd ordered the night before. "Oh yeah?" Claire nodded, looking rather proud of herself. It'd been a very productive morning; somber work and information and all, the donuts had been a sort of pick-me-up. She never imagined just how seriously Wisconsin natives took their morning pastries.

"Maple and candied bacon with a chocolate drizzle, or strawberry champagne danish. Take your pick." They also came with two huge, very fragrant coffees on the side. Ben's eyes appeared to momentarily bulge out of his head.

"Maple and _candied bacon?_" he repeated, sounding amazed and bewildered at the same time. "Hell _yes_, lemme at it." His perk factor shot up about fifty points. Claire felt like she just won a gold star.

"Dig in," she said right before a sip from her cardboard cup. Claire smoothed the front of her dress before settling in the opposite chair. "Looks like the PD only started connecting the dots after the last girl went missing," she said, tearing a piece of danish off with her fingertips, poised over it like ivory spiders. Some of Claire's childhood table manners remained, where others didn't. For one reason or another, she just never got into the habit of saying Grace.

_It's been hell this month,_ the chief of police confessed to the young blond woman he had thought was one of his wife's new interns at the University. _Spring thaws out all the crazies. Anything from Aliens to Vampires._. Then he commented on how surprising it was a 'lovely young woman' such as herself was so interested in stupid things like that. "They're a dead end. No one's come through the morgue."

"Guess we're gonna have to go deeper," Ben said around a mouthful of donut, chewing slowly. He made a show of rolling his eyes back into his head. "Holy shit, this is amazing. You only got one?" Claire made it a point to look hurt, then countered the expression with a deeply cut smirk. She set her coffee down and pushed a finger on the hinge of the blank cardboard box once tied with twine. Inside was a treasure trove of maple bacon and strawberry champagne donuts.

Ben's face split into a wide grin as he looked up at her eyes again. "There was a sampling section, wasn't there?" She broke apart in a short, grinning laugh.

"_Maybe_."

"Where have you been all my life?"

Claire smiled a little awkwardly around her first bite, trying like Hell to ignore the bloom of warmth under her cheeks, or tell herself it was from the cold. She swallowed quietly and washed it all down -feelings and all- with a good gulp of coffee. "Pontiac, Illinois."

He grinned, finishing his donut in three swift bites before taking a good swig from his coffee. Hell, even the _coffee_ was good.

"So since the morgue is a no-go, and all of 'em are around the same age, why don't we check the birth records at city hall? Maybe they were born at the same hospital."

"It'd have to wait 'til tomorrow," she added in agreement. He nodded, taking another sip from the coffee.

"I'll head into the station in a li'l bit, see about getting a copy of the reports they've got so far so we can see what hasn't been asked." Claire put a large piece of strawberry between her lips and nodded; silent for a little bit of contemplation.

"What's your gut saying?"

"Demons," he admitted, frowning. "Either that, or someone's very particular about using all the parts of the body when they're makin' long pig gumbo." Despite the way her nose wrinkled at the reference, Claire agreed with the hunch. Of course, it could easily be something else. She knew they both currently had demons on the brain.

"I hate big cities," she said finally, and scraped the side of her mouth with a fingertip to catch a crumb. "Too much to narrow down." That, and she always felt like she was being watched. Ben hummed in agreement, going a bit more slowly with the second donut so he could enjoy it a little more. He couldn't help feeling like she'd somehow reached into his brain purposefully and picked something out she knew he would have wanted. The thought left him feeling warm everywhere at once.

"I should go shower," he said around another mouthful, pulling himself up out of the chair. When he'd been working on his own he often waited until he had to face the world before taking care of things like personal hygiene, but now that Claire was around he couldn't shake the strong desire to be at his best at all times.

* * *

><p>"Kevin Hollander, twenty-four; apparently inherited his dad's gas station when the old man passed of pancreatic cancer two years ago. Runs it with his uncle, his mother is... not in the picture." Claire glanced again at the small print photocopied at the side of the missing person's report in her hand, then up to the double-wide she and Ben faced from the street. This was the third place they'd been to that day. Five hours of pretending to be with the MPD, going over details that were already written in the files they had 'acquired' the day before. Claire couldn't help but feel this would be another dead end, and it showed on her face, just below the rims of her aviators; the ones that went surprisingly well with the charcoal fitted blazer and dark trousers under her nice coat.<p>

"Reported missing by his roommate, Jeffery." She handed Ben the file.

"That's seriously all they wrote down?" Ben asked, his brows furrowed. Sometimes he seriously doubted the police knew how to investigate a case properly. Claire shook her head lightly, and readjusted her coat against the wind.

"Just that he had gone 'out' and never came home." This was another reason why Claire really detested big cities. People got lost in them, and not just by getting turned around. They could so easily just slip through so many bureaucratic cracks. Who knew how many special cases flew too low to be picked up by even _their_ specialized radar.

"You wanna take the lead, or should I?" he asked her. Claire took a deep breath and let it out through her nose, slowly.

"I got this one." The two of them got out of the GTO and moved toward the double-wide with purpose, Ben knocking briskly on the door once they stood in front of it. It took a few minutes before a man with deeply tanned skin and green eyes opened the door, one hand lifting to block out the brilliant sunlight.

"Help you?" he asked, his voice touched with a foreign accent. Claire squinted a little behind her dark shades, automatically picking up on the lilt in the man's speech. She watched him carefully, but put on the faint, business smile.

"Mr. Donovan? _Jeffery_ Donovan?"

"Yes, that is me," the other man said. His eyes moved between the two of them. Ben smiled politely as well and pulled out his badge.

"Officers Johnson and Young. We'd like to ask you a few questions about Kevin Hollander."

Jeff's brows furrowed slightly but he nodded, pulling back into the house. "Please come in."

The double-wide was dark on the inside, thanks to a light-blocking shade drawn on every window. A small floor lamp was lit in the corner by a single couch and coffee table, the dishes in the sink had to have been there for at least three days, or so Claire deduced by the smell. Underneath that was the distinct smell of stale cigarette smoke and beer.

"We appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Donovan. We're combing through every bit of information we have to see if we can get a better lead on where Kevin might be." The standard speech left her lips, practiced and memorized as her eighth grade government test. Claire removed her sunglasses, folded the tines, and stuck them in her pocket. "When did you last see your roommate?"

"Four nights ago," Jeff answered, moving awkwardly in the space and shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. They were almost too stylish for someone who lived in a manufactured home. "He came home after work to get ready to go out for the night. I told that to the cops who came here the other day."

"I assume you're the one who works nights, then." Claire nodded pointedly to the shades around the room. Jeff laughed lightly.

"Yeah, y'kinda woke me up from a nap, actually. I'm a bouncer at a night club in town." Claire placed a brief apologetic smile on her lips, nodding as she spoke.

"Sorry about that. We'll be out of your hair shortly. You mind if my partner takes a quick look in Kevin's room? We only have a few more questions."

"Sure, yeah, no problem," Jeff answered, nodding away. Ben connected eyes with Claire briefly before disappearing down the hall.

"Appreciate it," Claire looked away from Ben when he turned away from the living room, again facing Jeffery Donovan. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she found the oddly continental first name at a contrast with the man's subtle accent, but it didn't raise any alarms. She folded her arms on the manila file and held it against her abdomen, her eyes now set on him rather than their surroundings.

"Had Kevin been acting at all strange or out of the ordinary before he disappeared? Had he met anyone worth mentioning, or gained a sudden interest in something that hadn't been around before?" Masked questions for picking apart things like possession. Thankfully they sounded a lot like the standard ones asked on an MPR.

"Not really," Jeff replied, leaning back against the wall. "I mean, his dad's anniversary was coming up, but other than that Kev was pretty chill. Working that gas station takes a lot out of him."

"The anniversary of his father's death?" Claire asked for clarification purposes only.

"Yes ma'am," Jeff answered with a small nod. She filed that away to be brought up later when she and Ben got back to the hotel, though it didn't seem like any big piece of the puzzle. Not at the moment anyway.

"Did you have any idea where he was going when he decided to go out?" Some things were going to be repeated-that was standard police procedure, and a damn good one too. Weeded out loose stories, or at least it was intended to. "Which club do you work at?"

"WET on 17th," Jeff replied. He gave her a little smile. "You should come by one of these nights. I'll be sure t'let you in without any trouble." Claire smiled back at him, but as the result of very well practiced reactions.

"Tempting. Was that where Kevin was going? Maybe some of your coworkers saw him."

Jeff shrugged one shoulder, his smile turning sad. "No idea. Said he was tryin' some place new, but he didn't say where. Kinda wish he had, now. I'm sorry I can't be any more helpful."

_Someplace new._ That was something to look into, at least. How many 'new' clubs could there be in a city? That is, unless he meant 'new to _him_', which was also a strong possibility. Claire nodded with a presented air of detached sympathy, just like the cops she'd studied relentlessly. Movement caught in the corner of her eye found Ben stepping back into the living room from the hallway. She met his eyes, silently questioning. He nodded slightly and gave her the slightest hint of a smile. Clearly he'd found something useful.

Claire turned back to Jeffery, and offered him a vague smile of compassion and understanding. "You've been more than helpful. I think we've covered everything," she offered him her hand as a professional courtesy-though on the very tip of her ring finger was a tiny bead of water, _Holy Water_, squeezed from the small envelope dabber she kept hidden in her pocket. Claire was careful to keep her shoulders loose and her posture relaxed, despite the tension everywhere else-should he react _badly_. "We'll get out of your hair."

Jeff took her hand easily and with out any outward reactions to the holy water, though his eyes did briefly flick down at her hand and then up at her face again. He offered her a polite smile.

"If I hear anything, I'll be sure to call the station, Officer." Claire's own smile was a little easier.

"We appreciate it. Thanks again." She withdrew her hand and replaced her shades, slipping out the door and into the cold with Ben. Another dead end, unless whatever he had found panned out.

Ben waited until they were in the GTO before he spoke up. "He was diabetic," he said. "I found medical documents in a drawer. He's AB-." Claire's brows lifted; she gave him a sidelong look as she started the car.

"That's like, what-two percent of the population?"

"Or less," Ben confirmed. "How much y'wanna bet that's the golden ticket?" She rolled her lips lightly, easing into traffic out from the trailer park.

"Enough to stop by the hospital, I think."

* * *

><p>The hotel room was dark except for the glow of the laptop. Claire was snug under her covers but Ben was still working away. He didn't see the figure appear two feet behind him.<p>

"Ben," Jesse hissed.

The unexpected voice, added to the sudden sensation of his personal space being invaded, was enough to have Ben visibly jump hard and high in his seat. He made a loud, very un-masculine noise in his surprise.

"_Jesus-!_"

"Whoa, whoa, easy, it's me!" Jesse said, holding out his hands. Not that that would necessarily make Ben feel any better, but it was a chance he'd have to take. "Look, I got-"

"Dude, what the fuck!" Ben interrupted him with a shout that snapped Claire out of her sleep with a gasp and two wide, panicked eyes. He reached at his side for where his gun was normally holstered, but it wasn't there. He didn't normally stay armed in his own house at - he looked quickly at the red light of the alarm clock on the table between his and Claire's beds - three in the morning.

"..._Jesse_?" Claire tried to swallow her heart and switched her eyes between the two men, demanding and frantic and still in the half-grip of sleep.

"Yes, Jesse, here, hi," Jesse said, impatience coloring his tone. "Look, I know it's late, but it's impor-"

"How the hell did you get in here?" Ben interrupted, his words clipped and dangerous. "And how the hell did you know we were in Milwaukee?"

"For fuck's sake, what part of 'super powers' didn't you understand?" Jesse snapped back. "It doesn't matter, there's-" Claire cut him off.

"Are you actually _following us_?"

"_I SAW A VAMPIRE!_" Jesse yelled, his eyes a little wild.

Ben's jaw promptly fell open. Claire stopped breathing for a moment. Together as one, they blurted in unison:

"Where?"

Letting a breath out through his nose, Jesse said, "This downtown club. I can take you there, though it's probably the only one in this shit town."

Ben and Claire both immediately started moving; Ben shut the laptop,nearly tripping over himself to get to his bag. Vampires were fierce. He'd only dealt with a few in the length of his hunting career, but in all cases he'd barely gotten away with his head still attached. At least four good-lengthed scars on his body were attributed to those hunts; he was not looking forward to this hunt if it was really vampires like Jesse said.

Claire did her best to avoid aggravating the bandage on her leg as she wiggled into a pair of old jeans, snapping them over the shorts she'd worn to bed. Her shoulder holster went on next, checked and loaded, followed by her jacket.

Jesse watched in silence before glancing at the door, facing another dilemma. "I'm gonna use the toilet. Go ahead and get everything together and in the car, I'll meet you out there."

Ben grunted in response, loading everything he could on his body with holsters and packs. If they were planning to track the vampires back to their nest, they would need to be ready. His eyes turned briefly over to Claire.

"I'll make up some instant coffee," he said quickly, already moving. Claire was twisting her hair away from her face into a high ponytail when her eyes trained on Ben when he spoke.

"I don't like this." She made the obvious known, but went on, trying to push the knot of apprehension back down her throat. She knew time was imperative in this case, but couldn't help but feel cripplingly unprepared. Maybe it was just being so suddenly yanked from sleep-but she didn't think so.

"Way too much to guess at." Like Ben, she didn't have a lot of experience with vampires. With only two encounters under her belt, and the nicks on her body to prove it, how could she _not_ be anxious? "Plus...what about _him_?"

"We'll make it up as we go along," he said, trying to sound confident. "Nothing we're not used to, right?" He grabbed two cups out of the cabinet, filled them with hot water at the tap, then loaded up six spoonfuls per glass and three spoonfuls each of sugar. The smell of the coffee crystals filled the air around them as he brought their glasses out to her.

"Bottom's up," he said, giving her cup a click before knocking it back. Claire's lips pressed and rolled as he swallowed the bitter brew in less than a breath. She took one of her own and closed her eyes. _Father, lead us well._ On that thought, she joined his toast, taking down every freeze-dried drop.

"Right, here we go," he said, moving to the door to hold it open for her before turning his head in the direction of the bathroom. "Move it or lose it, Captain Creeper!"

* * *

><p>As they drove, Jesse leaned forward, his arms leaned on the back of their bench seat. "So they don't really sparkle, right? I mean the teeth are different. Unless there's something else that drinks people's blood?" For the first time, he was a bit uncertain about what he saw. He'd rushed over so quickly, he hadn't really had time to think about it.<p>

"Oh, there's plenty'a stuff that drinks people's blood," Ben said, working his jaw. "But to answer your question, yes: they don't really sparkle." Claire stayed relatively quiet. She was testing the spring hinge on a serrated butterfly knife that'd been specially made.

Jesse couldn't stop looking between them, his addrenaline pumping. "So how do you kill them? The old stake, or you have to tear them apart and burn the pieces?"

"Cut their heads off." Claire said flatly, looking out the window. The crowds of the entertainment district weren't calming her nerves. She flipped the blade closed and tucked it into the hidden piece of elastic in her shirt sleeve.

His breath stopping a moment, Jesse let it out slow. It was nearly ten whole seconds before he said, "So, you got an extra machete or something for me?"

"This isn't amateur hour," Ben replied, looking over his shoulder at the man. "We're thankful for the tip, but vampires aren't a good critter to cut your teeth on."

"Besides, we can't just charge in," Claire added with a look at Jesse, meeting his eyes. Hopefully she could convey a decent amount of the spine-welding tension that both she and Ben were under, thanks to this situation. "Goin' in blind usually means you don't come out."

Jesse deflated some but bit back any argument. "So what are we going to do?"

"Stake-out and stalk-back," Ben answered, relaxing slightly at the lack of raised voices. He was still tired. This was going to suck.

Claire glanced back out the passenger side window, gauging their position. Depending on the layout of the block and the building, the next hour or so would be routine. Checking exits, alarm systems, and signature signs. "So what _exactly_ did you see..." She looked back at Jesse, and draped an arm over the back of the seat. "You see them feed or something?"

"Not quite. Think he was about to, though. They got these privacy booths, whole line of them with. Got one-way mirrors and everything, kinky shit like that. Anyway, this sheila was dragging me into one, only it wasn't empty. This bloke was leaning into a girl, and it would've been normal, except he had these _teeth_." He held his hands up, crooked into claws, and laced the fingers together. "Like shark teeth or piranha or something. But it was only a second and then was normal and pissed, so I booked it."

Ben looked over his shoulder at him again, brows arched. "And they just let you leave?"

Jesse looked sheepish. "Well I didn't yell 'vampire!' or something. Played it like I didn't see it and was too drunk to care, y'know?" Plus he'd gone straight to the bathroom to disappear, but he wasn't sure these two were ready for that kind of detail about him. Not after how they reacted to the wallet trick.

Ben humphed in response, resettling in the seat. One hand came up to rub his eyes tiredly. The coffee he'd guzzled down was making his knees bounce, but he couldn't deny still feeling tired.

"Remind me to pick up some Red Bull at the store tomorrow," he muttered to Claire.

"I could get some now?" Jesse perked up. Staking-out wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind and he was still a bit wired. "Bound to be an all-night place around." Claire looked at Jesse, then over to Ben. It wasn't a terrible idea.

"Gotta be a 7-11 around here," she suggested lightly. She'd had a little bit of sleep at least., but Ben's heavy eyes didn't exactly fill her with hope.

* * *

><p>Obviously going in through the front door was out of the question. They would be spotted instantly, and who knew of the bouncers were vampires or not. He knew how they tracked; if a vampire caught a scent, they hunted that person no matter where they went. It put him on edge in a way that most no other monsters did. It was why he normally left the vampires to the "specialists."<p>

So they'd gone snooping around the back, as carefully as possible. The club was its own distraction thankfully, and not too many people looked around the sides of the building. There was a door, but it was locked. Ben, of course, had picks, and dropped down into a crouch to work the locks open. Claire kept watch a few feet away.

"Kind of high profile, don't you think?" She spoke quietly, her eyes darting up the south corner of the building along the iron skeleton of the fire escape, and into the shadows there. Anywhere someone could stand, or crouch. There were so many places. "Either they're too bold for their own good, or-" The alternative chilled Claire's blood a bit. She pushed an anxious sigh through her nose. "-or it's a _big_ nest."

"But why are there so few mispers, then?" Ben asked, his voice a little stilted from concentrating. She looked at him over her shoulder. The hesitation in her voice and posture betrayed Claire's contained nervousness.

"Heavy recruiting."

"That would still mean more mispers," Ben said, but there was doubt in his voice. What if they'd been converted, but simply released into the masses? It was a frightening thought. "I think I've almost got it..."

The metal tumbler under Ben's pick released with a hollow click, but not thanks to any effort of his. It pulled open hard, too fast for any casual employee heading out for a smoke. The next instant, the tip of a polished alligator skin boot slammed into Ben's shoulder, knocking him flat onto his back with an explosive exhale of air. It was followed by a black velvet voice, heavy with a slow, gentlemanly southern Drawl.

"_Congratulations_, son. You _got it_ good."

Time seemed to slow down as realization hit him. Had Jesse set them up? Whether he was innocent or not, they'd clearly been watched from somewhere inside the club. Before Ben even got a chance to respond, the vampire slammed a fist into his jaw so hard he saw stars, then everything went black.

As Ben went down, the vampire looked past him to Claire, his smile feral.

"Well aren't you cute."

Claire's jaw set as stone, and her heart slammed against the inside of her ribs like a humming bird on fire. Every muscle in her body had gone rigid with the sound Ben made before his body went limp, and now resounded with a baseline of panic. Going for the knife in her jacket was automatic, but useless when her eyes darted to the two wild-eyed vampires that filed out behind the Southern one. The sound of cold laughter came from the shadows behind her. Claire was barely breathing.

_They knew we were here..._

"Not interested, Jethro," she shot back tightly, with quick glances at the others behind her. This wasn't going to end well. The Southern vampire chuckled and made a brief gesture with one hand. All of the vampires started moving in closer. The two closest to the door lifted Ben as though he were made of air, then started toward a van parked not that far away.

Claire hadn't been so close to panic since the first time she encountered a demon on her own, but that fact suddenly didn't matter when they plucked Ben up from the ground and started filing away. Calculations of how close and how many filtered through her prey animal instincts, but the nasty edge in her eyes was a hint of pure human hatred. She connected that hard line of eye contact with the Southerner's ice blue gaze, then broke her rigid defensive stance with a wide back-handed arc - complete with weapon - at the two creatures behind her.

Claire managed to put a few decent-sized slices into them, but she was no match for three against one. The Southern vampire decided to join the fray once Ben was out of sight, and in too little time she was pinned and her knife knocked away. Rather than knock her out the same way Ben had been however, a potent smelling cloth was shoved up against her mouth and nose. Claire knew the smell of chloroform right before the chemicals swallowed her sinuses, and darkness claimed her.

* * *

><p>The first thing Claire recognized was the sharp, spicy smell that burned in the back of her throat and ripped her back into consciousness. She groaned, screwing her eyes tight against what slowly registered as tenderized ribs, the lingering burn in her leg, and shoulders that were absolutely <em>screaming<em>. They were shrugged tight against her neck, stretched above her head and tied at the wrists with a grainy, cheap velvet rope-that rope was strung by a chain thrown over a beam that crossed the ceiling.

"Morning, Officer."

Claire opened her eyes at the familiar, faint accent. They met the pale green gaze of 'Jeffery Donovan,' who pulled the bottle of smelling salts away from her nose, and smiled at her before sliding a hand up to push her hair over her shoulder.

"I'm happy they got my message not to harm you. You may not be of my tastes, but you are a pretty thing. I would've hated to see you damaged."

"_How considerate_," Claire sneered through the discomfort, trying to ignore the way her stomach twisted with the connotations she caught in his words. As soon as he freed more of her field of vision, she swept the large, windowless room with her eyes, looking for Ben. She found him in the exact position she was in, fifteen feet directly across from her but looking a lot less worse for wear.

Jeffery followed her gaze and smiled, then moved over to the other hunter and lifted his unconscious head by the hair.

"He, on the other hand, did not make the cut. We're giving him a good tenderizing before pushing him along to our employees. They prefer junk food anyway."

Claire felt every muscle from her wrists to the bottom of her shoulder blades shift and shudder when her hands clenched on their own. She'd been in dire situations before; in the place of mortal fear and acceptance of the consequences that came with the path she followed, Claire was always comforted by prayer. Right then, however, there were no words to God for guidance or strength. Only an acidic rage incited by the vampire's plans for Ben, and an unnamed terror that went along with the thought of losing him. She swallowed it all back-or tried to, anyway.

"So what makes me so _special_?" she asked with no small amount of bite; trying for distraction. Trying to keep his focus on her, if she could... even though Claire had no idea how they were getting out of this. Jeffrey let go of Ben's head and once again he slumped forward, hanging from his bindings like so much meat. The vampire chuckled, ripping Ben's button-down shirt open and exposing his undershirt and chest. Claire tensed even more, but bit down on her tongue to keep from showing it.

"You remind me of a Botticelli piece," he replied smoothly, producing a knife from nowhere and slicing through Ben's undershirt. "I've always admired his work, ever since I first met him. To own a living piece of art such as you would be exquisite. I only hope my Sire allows it."

Claire stared across from her, drawing closer and closer to full blown animal panic. She'd never worked with someone for so long-she'd never developed friendships beyond that of an occasional contact; not since she was a girl. She was utterly unprepared for the surge of protective rage that came from this very _intentful_ display. Her lips pursed tight. She didn't know what to do...

"Let'im go..." she finally blurted, thoughtlessly, but she didn't regret it. Her eyes darted to the vampire's face. She knew how ludicrous the demand was, but logic was taking a back seat to the desperateness of the situation.

Jeffrey turned to look at her inquisitively, his head tilting to follow the shape of her body with his eyes before he met her gaze again.

"I can't," he replied. "I have orders to kill both of you, in fact. My hope is to convince my Sire to let me keep you in order to spare your life. And sadly I can't _just_ kill your friend. That would be wasteful." He said everything with a tone most reserved toward business.

"So where is your _Sire_?" she replied quickly. The blood was leaving her arms and felt like it was pooling and congealing in the joints of her shoulders. The chain clinked on it's rafter above when she attempted to shift, and was reminded of the blows she took outside.

"Do you really want to know?" he asked her, turning his gaze back to Ben's lifeless form yet again.

_Stay asleep. God please, let him stay out..._ Claire felt her throat seize on her next breath, which tightened her voice. "Wouldn't've asked otherwise..."

"He is checking the progress of the newest mother," Jeffrey replied at last. He remained still for a moment, then returned his knife to the sheath at his hip. Without even a pause he curled his hand into a fist and landed a punch squarely into Ben's ribcage. Claire stiffened, as if it were herself that'd been hit. Donovan's words echoed like the sound of the chain above Ben's stretched arms, resounding from the blow.

"So you _were_ breeding them." Talking left a sour taste in Claire's mouth in the absence of the words she _wanted_ to say; or shout. It was a miracle she was able to keep herself as reposed as she was-to filter her words, when all she wanted to do was scream insults and protests. Both of which, she knew would result in more violence toward Ben. "Y'know, that's incredibly inefficient..."

Jeffrey turned his eyes back to Claire with a lift of his brows and a faint smile on his handsome mouth. "Is that so?" She held his eyes as hard as she could, resisting the urge to look back at Ben.

"Well you'd _think_, as long as you claim to've been around, you'd come up with some McVampy version of fast food, instead of waiting twenty years for a meal." The bridge of Claire's nose wrinkled when she peeled her top lip back, just a hair-a show of disgust and disdain mixed with challenge. She just prayed it worked. "You're in _Milwaukee_, for Pete's sake. These people have eating down to an art-you should learn from your food."

Jeffrey scoffed at her, strolling on front of her again. He brought his hand up to her face, tracing a single finger down her cheek.

"Oh dove," he said softly. "One percent of the population is still quite a lot of food. We do not feed daily, and it gives us an excuse to travel and see the world. And," he added with a slow smile. "Nothing tastes better than food grown fresh. We've certainly tried genetically modified methods, much like you have, but we can taste the difference. You'll learn soon enough."

Her skin still tingled uncomfortably where he had touched her, and Claire felt her arms bend against her own weight in an attempt to flush a bit more blood to her hands, or perhaps to test the rope for the tenth time since waking... but she still held onto that exotic, frigid green gaze. His eyes were like stagnant ponds frozen over by winter. Claire had to bite back the urge to spit in his face.

Instead, she pulled a shaky breath through flaring nostrils, and stared him and her own fears down. She spoke low, dark and even; her tone more of a promise than an angered threat. "Whether its tonight, or ten years from now; I _will kill you_."

Jeffrey smiled pleasantly at her, leaning in close so that they were cheek to cheek and his warm breath brushed against her ear.

"I look forward to every attempt you make, dove," he purred into her ear. Then he pulled away, moving back to Ben and landing at ten blows on him in the space of five seconds. By the fourth hit Ben had finally awoken, and he shouted out in pain with every subsequent punch.

"STOP!" Claire could no longer reign herself in, not after the packed-meat sounds mixed with the sharp yells. A fire blazed in her lungs that overshadowed any discomfort she may've been in earlier. She didn't even feel the ropes or the strain-she just pulled at the chain and yelled desperate and rageful at Donovan. Claire's protests and Ben's broken shouts combined with Jeffrey's sadistic laughter as he took another six hits, aiming the final two at Ben's jaw. He pulled his fists away and ran his tongue up the trail of blood that now covered his knuckles, though his nose wrinkled just slightly.

"B-positive," Jeffrey lilted. "1999. Not a terrible year. A little too much sodium, though. You really should've kept better watch of that."

Adrenalin pumped through her blood, hot as battery acid and a little too close to the surface. Claire flushed at the cheeks and her eyes stung, same as the stretched muscles in her shoulders as she pulled at the rope and gritted her teeth. The breath growled in the back of her throat until the the strain was too much. She went slack for a moment of needed rest.

"Sick _Fuck_," she hissed, swearing in a rare moment of personal failure. Jeffrey simply chuckled. Suddenly the door behind him opened and another man appeared, speaking to him in a language Claire didn't understand. Jeffrey answered in kind, then turned his eyes to Claire again.

"My Sire has arrived. Please excuse me, dove. I won't be but a moment."

His 'politeness' was stomach-turning to Claire from the beginning, but that didn't register after the door shut behind him and the other. She looked across the short distance at Ben, her eyes glassy and burning.

Ben remained motionless for a long time where he was tied up, his breathing shallow due to what could only be broken ribs. When he finally spoke his voice was gritty and dark.

"This is so not how I pictured things going down."

Hearing his voice was bittersweet. Something twisted in Claire's chest, and she swallowed it down hard. When she answered, it was strained, but not by pain. Not physical pain, anyway.

"What did you hear..."

"Not a lot," he admitted in the same gravelly voice. "Give me the short version?"

Claire rolled her lips and looked up at the rafters, sighing shakily through her words. "They've got a breeding program for the elders. Also, I'm the next pet, and you're food."

"Why do you always get to be the pet?" Ben muttered. "That's so not fair."

Despite the situation, his weak humor managed to put a faint, sad smile on her face. It also made her heart hurt, and Claire breathed in deep to keep the sting in her eyes from becoming tears. "You can be the pet next time."

"Holdin' you to that," he replied weakly. Silence fell between them before Ben licked his too-dry lips and swallowed around a parched throat. "Claire, I... whatever happens, just know I..."

There was no warning; no pop of noise or flash of light. One moment they were alone in the room and the next Jesse stood between them, a machete clutched in his hands.

"Whoa." He took a couple steps back, staring at them. "Hey, look, it's cool if you're into S&M and all, but you really think now's the time?"

The corner of his mouth pulled up at the joke, but his eyes were too round to pull it off.

Claire squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then reopened them. Yes, Jesse was still there, but oddly enough, the fact that she wasn't hallucinating wasn't much of a comfort. It would've made sense with the joking, though. Him and Ben, both-maybe it was a guy thing.

She snapped out of her stunned reverie and arched her brows at Jesse. The mechanics of how the hell he just found them could be saved for later. "Get him down! They'll be back any second..."

Relieved someone else was in charge, Jesse hurried over, lifting the machete with shaking hands. Up close, Ben looked worse, like he'd been worked over with a bat. Jesse's stomach tightened. "You look like shit, dude."

"Yeah well, I got the shit kicked out of me. What's your excuse?" Ben croaked out in response.

With a real grin, Jesse starting sawing at the ropes holding Ben up. It came away with a snap and Ben fell hard to the floor with a groan, struggling to get to his feet.

"How did you get in here?" The voice cracked through the air like a shot. Donovan stepped through the door, followed by a handful of equally shocked and hungry underling vampires, and a stoic, stick of a figure that calmly brought up the rear.

Jesse whipped around, machete raised as one, then several people walked in the room. Except they probably weren't people. _Shit, shit, shit_, he thought, his stomach dropping to his feet. Just the sound of the voices were enough to get Ben moving, panic and fear fueling him as he grabbed the machete out of Jesse's hand and swung it sharply at the nearest vampire's head. His whole body screamed in protest.

Claire tensed visibly, not only rigid from the voice behind her, but by the panicked expression on Jesse and Ben's face when they whipped around. "Jesse!" She barked to get his attention when Ben lunged in attack. Her eyes wide, sharp as her voice in her own panic and urgency. "Can you get him out?" He popped in in the blink of any eye-God willing, he could take Ben with him.

"No, I- It doesn't work-" _Claire._ Ben had the vampires distracted for now, so he had to get her free while there was time. She knew how to battle these things, after all.

In two quick strides he was next to her, pulling at the knots that held her up. Velvet was trickier when you didn't have a machete. He gasped as an iron hand grabbed his shoulder and slammed him back against the wall.

"That's _mine_." Donovan growled, all teeth and murder flushed up to Jesse's face, as his hands pinned the younger man's shoulders to the wall like carpentry nails. The vampire's nostrils flared when he caught _something_ aside from the normal plebeian blood he'd come to expect from the masses. His eyes narrowed to slits and his lips peeled back for words or attack, but they never came. Ben had slid the machete through the small space while the vampire was distracted like a rope, then pulled back with full force. The blade embedded into the vampire's neck, but didn't quite decapitate him.

Donovan flailed viciously, his hands going up to pull the machete free. Ben yanked it back and, now that there was space enough between him and Jesse, he swung it with all the force of a baseball bat and the vampire's head separated from his body.

Claire's blood pounded in her ears and she pulled violently against the rope digging into her wrists; a fight she abandoned when two snarling vampires started past her, toward Ben and Jesse. She steeled her arms as best she could and snatched at the last one with her legs, catching the female around her waist, and locked her ankles. It wouldn't last long, but it was all she could do.

"Two o'clock!" She shouted at Ben in warning, right before another pair of chilly hands twisted in his open shirt and slammed him to the ground.

Panic rent through Jesse, but he had to do something. With no weapon, he worked on instinct, and hit the vampire with a roundhouse kick to the face. His eyes went wide as the vampire's head snapped back; he'd never done that before. Now wasn't the time to question it. With another kick, he sent the vampire sprawling to the ground. But there were more coming, and Ben looked like a ball of pain. So Jesse snatched up the machete and, in one smooth move, brought it down on the neck of the vampire fighting to get away from Claire. Her head split clean off. Not missing a step, he brought the blade up to slice through Claire's restraints before stepping in front of her.

"If any of you want to live, I'm warning you now, get the _fuck_ outta here!" he snarled.

Claire was caught somewhere between disbelief and auto-pilot; Jesse's apparent expert knowledge of melee combat was a little more than _unexpected_, but she didn't have time or the mental capacity to focus on that right now. The second her hands were free, she ignored the surge of fire in her joints and dropped to Ben's side-she had to make sure he was still breathing.

A figure in the doorway who had been watching the entire scene transpire smirked and chuckled. "You forget, boy," he said in a smooth, melodic voice. "We are already dead."

"Yeah, well have a fun afterlife without your head," Jesse said, his lip curling.

Then he swept into the melee. Not a step, not a motion was wasted. He moved as though he had eyes all the way around his head, no vampire getting a chance to get close, unless it was so he could cleave off its head. His snarls roared over theirs and the thuds of heads hitting the floor. He didn't notice as the figure in the doorway stepped away and disappeared.

When the last vampire hit the ground, he spun towards Claire and Ben. His chest heaved, blood splattered down the front of him and splashed over his face, and his eyes locked on Claire's with a nearly audible snap.

She just... _stared_, wide and wild-eyed. Ben's unconscious weight half sprawled against her in the position she'd managed to get him in before-_all that_-something very primordial inside her buzzed in warning when her eyes caged in Jesse's. What had been only a few seconds seemed like an eternity of silence, of Claire trying to decipher what was screaming inside her before a bit of rational thought overshadowed it.

"We gotta get him outta here," her voice rasped, still tight with that unnamed anxiety. She'd just have to revisit it later, when they were out of the lion's den. Even though it was empty, Claire couldn't help but feel like there was one more beast, staring at her from some dark place.

* * *

><p>Everything hurt. Lying perfectly still hurt, turning his head a little to avoid the light hurt, even <em>breathing<em> hurt. There'd only ever been three situation in the entirety of Ben's life where he'd been in so much pain he couldn't think straight, and none of them stacked up against how he currently felt. All he wanted to do was die, but he didn't. He remained on whatever flat surface he currently lied on, trying very hard to take the smallest breaths he could afford to take without making himself even more ill, and very carefully shifted his arm so it covered his eyes.

Claire stood up from her crouch at the foot of the hotel bed, where she'd been digging through the newly stocked med kit in her bag. The sound and sight of Donovan's fists tearing muscle and skin and cracking bone played itself over and over behind her eyes, images that were mixed with the scene that Ben _hadn't_ witnessed. Both things made her stomach twist and her blood run a little cold. As bittersweet as it was, at least she had something to focus on-her immediate goal was the black, blue and bloody figure on the bed.

"I sent Jesse to fill my scrip-he'll be back soon." How soon crossed her mind-would he just materialize in the middle of the hotel room again? Could he do that anywhere? Claire pushed the questions out of her mind and focused on Ben. His shirt was still open from where Jeffery had torn it. Claire pushed something cold and slightly heavy into his hand, as gently as she could. His flask.

"You're gonna need it," she said with a hint of nostalgia and sadness. "I gotta set those ribs."

"Line-stealer," Ben said creakily, giving her a wispy smile before unscrewing the cap on the flask and putting it to his lips. All he could remember of the nest was pain. Then Jesse had appeared, and everything else faded away.

When he finally pulled the flash back, he pulled his arm free to look for her. "How long was I out?"

"Not too long," she replied quietly, still a little haunted. She set the stretch Ace bandage on the end table and gathered her hair over one shoulder, out of her eyes. Then light as a feather, traced where the struts of his ribs were _supposed_ to be under the line of purple and green bruised muscle. She found the first misalignment, and waited, taking a baited breath. "Tell me when you're ready."

"Just do it," he said through gritted teeth, already bracing himself. Claire made sure her fingertips were placed perfectly before firmly pressing the bone back in place. The feeling of it snapping back to normal and Ben going stiff as a board was enough to force her eyes closed. There was no way to stop the choked noises that came out of him every time she paused, and by the time she'd finally finished he was crying. It humiliated him. Ben turned his face toward the window, emptying the last of the flask and letting it drop hollowly from his hand to the floor.

Claire didn't speak, or bring attention to any of it. She still had to wrap them, to keep them set so he'd heal-but it could wait a few minutes. The sound of his pain was an unexpected sort of torture she didn't know how to deal with yet. It was by a deep seeded instinct and something warmer on top of it that silently reached for the hand that dropped his flask. She sat back on her heels on the floor by the bed, and just let him squeeze if he had to.

Jesse appeared just in front of the window, a white paperbag clutched in his hand. He would have preferred the door, and knew they would, too, but that devil's snare was tricky to get around.

He almost popped right back out when he saw them, quiet and strong. Depending on each other. But he'd already caught the corner of Claire's eye.

"Here," he said, walking forward with the bag. Avoiding looking at Claire, he gave Ben a weak smile. "Good to see you up, mate."

Ben craned his neck a little in order to look better look at the man who had undoubtedly saved their lives. There was no denying the shame and guilt that flooded into him at having shrugged him off so quickly in the car. Had there been three of them instead of two, they might've managed to get away without ever having been captured in the first place. He swallowed around a dry throat, giving a small nod.

"Well if I'd been out any longer, y'wouldda drawn on my face, right?" he asked with the ghost of a smile. Claire kept Jesse in her field of vision without looking at him directly-forcing her concentration onto one issue at a time. She peeled open the bag and popped open the pill bottle, shaking out two to her palm, then transferred them into Ben's. He took them dry without even wincing.

Jesse shrugged, tension in his shoulders easing. "'Course," he said lightly. His attention turned to Claire, though his gaze quickly flitted away. "Need anything else? Something I can do to help?"

She had so many things she wanted-_needed_- to ask him, but couldn't help but be wary about bringing anything up while Ben was in a daze of chemicals, booze, and broken bones. Claire watched Jesse's profile, finally having noticed he wasn't holding her eyes. She had a good idea why, too.

"Don't suppose those radio-active super powers include fast healing..." she said hopefully, but the hope was a little hollow. A small part of her thought back to a memory that was fresh as the pressure cuts on Ben's jaw; of when she was fourteen, and had last seen her father through the eyes of an angel. It could be done. She didn't expect it here, though.

He hesitated. "Well, for me, yeah. Never tried somebody else, though. I could." He added quickly, "If you want me to."

Ben looked between the two of them, his eyes a little sticky as the liquor and the medicine started kicking in. Something was going on, but he didn't quite know what and he wasn't exactly sure he could make his mouth work properly, so he shrugged a little. Claire switched her gaze from Ben back to Jesse, an odd mix of _please make him better_ and _if you hurt him, I'll kill you_ in her eyes, but she scooted back to give him room.

Swallowing, Jesse knelt at the bedside, looking uncertainly at Ben. He raised his hands above the man's body then realized he didn't know where to set them. On the ribs? Around them? The heart. That sounded right. And the other one... He decided to place it gently over the bandages. There was a long pause.

"Uh. Heal," he said, almost as a question.

Ben stared at him with wide eyes, his face slowly flushing. Somewhere, a part of his brain registered how very strange and uncomfortable this was. Jesse's hands were oddly cold, but also sweaty, which reminded Ben of ham.

"Your hands are like hams," he blurted. Then he blinked before breaking down in a fit of breathless giggles. It lasted all of five seconds before the pain caught up in his head and he winced and tried to stop. "_Ow._"

Jesse blinked over at him, then glanced at Claire. "Not sure what I'm doing. It kind of just happens for me." He looked down at Ben again, his face screwing up in concentration. Maybe he had to think of some sort of life energies shit, connecting and mending things. He just wanted it to work, so badly, and not only because it would make Ben feel better.

"Lemme know if you feel anything," he said, his words a bit tense. Ben continued to stare at him, the occasional snicker escaping him as his thoughts wandered followed by a strange sort of hyper-awareness of the texture of Jesse's skin. His face felt uncomfortably warm.

_Besides incredibly awkward?_ Claire thought to herself. If she hadn't seen everything that Jesse could do with her own eyes, this charade wouldn't have gotten beyond second one-and that thought alone surprised her with another surge of protectiveness she didn't know what to do with. Claire cleared her throat and shook her head. "Was worth a shot," her voice was equally tense.

"Gimme a minute," Jesse said through gritted teeth. He shifted his hand to Ben's forehead - stupid, doing the heart, the head was where the nerves were. His face started turning red from the effort of trying to force out something he couldn't find. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon." Claire was getting noticeably more anxious and defensive by the second.

"Why are your hands so _sweaty?_" Ben asked him, his voice an octave higher. Claire looked over at him, pensive, but with one corner of her lips pulled into her cheek. The look angled up at Jesse, a little of the warning edge worn down by the fact that Ben was obviously not being caused any more pain, even if it was thanks to the cocktail in his blood.

"Don't pop a blood vessel; I think we hit your limit," she said dryly.

The little sliver of hope in Jesse snapped at the words. He wanted to yell, to bang his fists against the side table, but instead he very carefully removed his hands. "Fuck," he said, hardly more than a whisper. Apparently, while killing came easy and natural, the other side of things wasn't in his blood. He wasn't surprised, but he was disappointed.

"Not on the first date," Ben blurted out again. When he realized what he said, his eyes widened considerably. Despite the feelings inside him, Jesse's eyes crinkled in a grin. Claire blinked at him, then looked at the prescription bottle in her hand.

"I think you've had enough..." This was muttered more to herself than actually to Ben.

* * *

><p>That night, none of them slept very well, but Ben was pretty sure he slept the worse of all of them. He'd spent years sleeping mostly on his side, but now he was forced to sleep on his back. His body, however, was too used to rolling over, and every time he'd even started to drift off, he awoke minutes later with pain shooting through him like lightning.<p>

Jesse had finally gotten out of bed when the sun started to rise, offering to pick up breakfast for the lot of them before quietly excusing himself. Ben felt both grateful and guilty, knowing fully well that they were trying to accommodate his injuries. _If I'd just been more careful, none of this would have happened,_ he thought bitterly, staring blankly at the television. The sound in the room suddenly dimmed as the shower in the bathroom went silent.

Claire stepped out of the bathroom a few moments later in jeans and a worn tank top, the latter was warm and clung a bit from her still wet hair. The shower had put a little more life in her eyes and color to her skin (it was especially hot, just to wake her up), after getting maybe an hour or two of sleep beside an obviously ailing Ben.

She sat on the edge of the bed, picking her curls loose with one hand and stiffened fingers. Her eyes were on him with a faint smile. "You ready for a walk?"

Just the idea of moving made him wince. "Not especially," he admitted. Her smile was tight. She understood too well.

"They're all gone, y'know," Claire said finally, after a moments of silence. Her eyes were a little glassy with the memory that she was just now realizing Ben didn't have. "We did good." That felt compulsive and sugar coated, but at the base level, it was true.

Ben's expression went from apprehensive to sour, though it wasn't entirely her fault. He looked down at himself, at the open shirt and the thick bandages around his midsection. He knew without asking that they'd cleaned him up a bit while he'd still been unconscious, but he still felt filthy. They might've gotten most of the nest, but the last thing he remembered with any clarity had been looking up at the vampire in the alley. Obviously the beating had been more than a little brutal.

If Jesse hadn't shown up... Ben closed his eyes and pushed the thought forcefully behind a door in his mind, then slammed it shut. What he really wanted to do was write his mother. He didn't dare call her, even though he knew she would be expecting a call right around now. It'd been at least two days since his last check-in.

Claire's lips pressed together when he gave that look. An uncomfortable pang of sensation rung like a bell through her chest. She just wanted to put it behind her.

"C'mon." She shifted off the bed and sided up to him, bending low so his arm could go around her shoulder. Broken ribs were _more_ than a pain-they were crippling. She'd had two before after being thrown down a ravine by a crazed werewolf-what a fun story _that_ was. Sitting or laying too long only made it more impossible to do anything else. "Hot shower'll...hurt like hell, but still sounds good, right?"

"I was kinda hopin' for a sponge bath," he said, a joke hanging from the words to hide the strain in his tone from moving. Claire cracked a small but genuine smile in spite of herself.

"I bet you were." Her arm curled around his back and hooked gently in a belt-loop for something to grab besides bruises. Once again Ben found himself silently amazed at the strength in her arms, his eyes pointed to the floor rather than down the front of her shirt even though the angle was perfect for it. He'd had enough awkwardness when he'd sobered up and remembered half of what he'd said the night before.

It was all too soon that they were in the bathroom again, the space made small by both of them occupying it. He tried to ignore the implication that she would have to help him undress.

They stooped toward the ledge of the bathtub, Claire ducked from under his arm and cranked the faucet. The tiny room was still humid from her shower, and carried the lingering smell of a jasmine shampoo she kept in her bag-never a big fan of the hotel brands, and churches rarely had them on hand. Her thoughts were shifting, like sand, this morning-chaotic and unstable. Claire attributed it to the very real possibility that they almost didn't survive the last night. She was still very haunted by things she'd seen and felt that she knew needed to be addressed.

But not yet. Right now, he was her focus, and that felt easier than anything else, even if it came with it's own breed of uncertainty. She stood in front of him and gingerly took the ruined collar of his shirt in her fingers, easing it down his arms so he wouldn't have to move so much-like the closeness was natural. In a way, it was. In other ways, Claire had to speak in order to keep herself from thinking too hard.

"You ever been to the Dells?" Her voice was soft, but she tried to make it sound promising, instead of forced chitchat.

Ben shook his head slightly, the scent of her shampoo intensifying twofold when her hair wafted close to his face. He kept his eyes angled over her shoulder at the mirror on the far wall by the sink. His face was also heavily bruised, the color disappearing beneath a day and a half worth of growth on his jaw. Yet another thing he wasn't looking forward to doing.

"They're not far away," she added a little quieter, bending at both knees to slide the rest of what remained of his shirts off. They were tossed to the side. "They've got this resort... it's basically a huge indoor beach. Sand and waves, all year round." A little rest and relaxation would do them all a world of good.

Claire looked up at him, unable to keep her eyes from stopping on the darker spots of skin on his jaw. Her stomach felt tight and somehow lodged in her throat. She swallowed it down and gently untucked the bandage just under his left arm, and started the close process of unwrapping it from around his ribs. Ben closed his eyes and clenched his jaw to keep from wincing.

"Sounds nice," he said in a tight voice. Aside from a little splurging they'd made when he'd sold his car in an attempt to scale down, he hadn't had any sort of real vacation since he was a kid. Granted, he wasn't exactly sporting a swimmer's body at present with the ugly bruises that were slowly being revealed in her unraveling.

Claire went quiet for a while, having dropped her gaze from his face when he closed his eyes. The only other thing to look at were the bruises. They'd be gone in a week, at least. The ribs would still be mending, but in the meantime, she was having trouble dealing with how empathetically painful it was to look at him. Claire forced a quick breath down, like the cold shot of air would help. It didn't.

The bandage went loose and she dropped it on his shirts, then stood up straight and offered him both her hands. "You got it from here?" She asked a little breathlessly, then smiled, hoping it would be contagious. "Or you want me to tell Jesse you wanted a sponge bath?"

Ben gave a breath of a laugh, which fortunately wasn't nearly as painful as the full-on one he'd felt briefly bubble up inside him. He took her hands, pulling himself up as carefully as he could without straining the muscles in his chest.

"Yeah," he replied quietly. "Keep an ear out for me?"

Claire's smile suddenly became that much easier. She squeezed his hands lightly. "I'll be right out here." Then she gathered the torn, bloodied clothes and headed into the room, shutting the door behind her.

Ben finished undressing in silence, fully able to make all the horrible expressions he wanted to now that he wasn't being watched. Once he was done he turned to take inventory of himself in the mirror. It was all very ugly and terrifying. In addition to bruises, there were several deep scabs peppering the flesh from what could only have been rings specially made to cut into him. Ben closed his eyes, trying to remember the previous night for the tenth time. All he could remember was shouting and the heavy tang of blood. Perhaps the fall had hurt his head.

_Be thankful you can't remember,_ some secret part of him whispered in his mind. _You probably wouldn't want to if you did._

Ben frowned, easing himself into the shower and pulling the curtain shut behind him.

* * *

><p>Jesse looked up as Claire came out of the bathroom. He'd cleaned off three spots on the table, creating a makeshift place setting with the Styrofoam containers and plastic flatware. "Alright?" he asked. She nodded faintly, pushing a hand through her still drying hair.<p>

"Second day's always the worst," she added. The smell of breakfast pulled a little at her stomach, but Claire couldn't be sure if she was actually hungry or not. Meeting Jesse's eyes right out of the bathroom-however briefly-reminded her again about what happened the night before. It was hard to push out of her mind. Still, she took a chair and sat down, folding both legs beneath her, Indian Style.

Jesse sat in the spot across from her, popping open his food and taking a bite of scrambled eggs. He took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing, before he said, "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty freaked out."

_You're not the only one._ Claire looked up at him from beneath her lashes, still and silent for a beat. She forced herself to let it go, at least a little bit, and tried to split the concentration between him and the food. The sausage patty in her foam plate was picked up by two fingers and set on top the container waiting for Ben before she plucked up her fork and started stabbing eggs.

"You wanna tell me about it?" Claire was careful about her words and her tone. They were demanding, but at the same time distinctly compassionate. Last night was jarring for all of them, but she knew she'd gone into it somewhat mentally prepared. So had Ben. Where that whirlwind of destruction came from inside Jesse-Claire was having a hard time wrapping her mind around it.

"You know as much as me," he said, hunching over his food. "I've never... done that before. Never been attacked by a group of vampires either. But I mean, I've never even had a karate lesson. Practiced the odd move from a kung fu movie, but never..."

The attack had gone too quickly for him to take anything in. He'd moved on instinct, without thinking. But once it was over, once he looked around at the pile of all-too-human bodies, at the blood that covered him, his stomach turned. He scrubbed himself raw in the shower that night. Of course, they had to die. They were monsters. But then what did you call someone who could kill so many with such ease?

Claire just watched him for a few minutes. The way she took in every subtle nuance, every unregistered facial twitch had been practiced for years; years of reading people for necessity's sake tended to twist her initial view on first impressions-made it hard for her to trust, no matter how desperately she wanted to. There was honesty in Jesse's expression, fear and uncertainty in his eyes and voice.

Him being a virtual automatic killing machine without realizing it did not exactly settle her mind. She sighed inaudibly and looked back at her breakfast. "How long have you been like this?" she asked, gentle and cautious.

"My whole life, as far as I know," he said, hazarding a look at her before starting in on his food. "Didn't realize it until I was eleven, though."

"What happened when you were eleven?" Claire finally chanced a bite of the eggs, then put her fork down to grab for the coffee, watching Jesse full on.

He bit his lip. Last time he'd mentioned it, Claire had shut down and walked away. "The thing with my mum," he said awkwardly. "The hunters that came around, they figured out something was off about me. Helped me with it."

That explained..._nothing_, but Claire couldn't bring herself to be cross. She inhaled deep and quiet, settling back against the chair. The attempt to split her attention between food and Jesse was completely abandoned.

"We have something in common," she mused without a lot of color to her voice, and met his eyes. Claire didn't think she'd ever get used to how potent they were. "S'how I ended up here, in all _this_." She added an all-inclusive gesture around the table, the hotel room, and Jesse as well.

He wasn't surprised, and though he wondered about the particulars, he knew he shouldn't ask for details he wasn't willing to give himself. "Yeah. I guess most hunters have something happen to them. It's not exactly the job-fair kind of profession."

She couldn't help the small, slightly lopsided smile that cut into one cheek at his description-something that sounded like he'd taken it right out of her head during that first tense chat they had back in Kenosha. Claire shook her head a bit and went for another sip of coffee. It was another few beats before she actually went on.

"My mom was also taken by a demon." There were a lot of details Claire wasn't listing off, for a number of reasons. The story was long and pretty personal, but there was the common link. Claire's blue eyes stayed, a little unfocused, on her eggs. "_Twice_."

Jesse's eyes widened. "Shit. I'm sorry." He'd been lucky, he knew that. The demon possessing his birth mom hadn't really registered the same way it must have for Claire. _Was there a reason?_ nearly crossed his lips, but then she might ask him the same thing.

She looked at him when he apologized, but said nothing. Whether it was compassion or condolences, it didn't matter-that sort of comment always came with some sort of social obligation that Claire never understood. To her, the words 'I'm sorry' implied guilt. It wasn't _his fault_ her mother married a Heavenly Vessel. Wasn't hers either.

Claire cleared her throat and tried to stay on track. "How did they help you? The hunters you met, I mean."

He shrugged. "Just talked with me. Helped me realize what I was doing when I wasn't even trying, to see how dangerous it could be. One of them, he said he'd been through something similar, and that he'd made the wrong choices. He wanted me to make the right ones."

Claire watched his eyes, nodded once, then went quiet again. The hunters drawn to Jesse could've been there because of his mother, but her gut instinct was telling her it went deeper than that, and she understood the base question that likely went through their heads. _Why_ does he have these abilities?

She could tell he was holding back, but _what_ still alluded her. Simply confronting him about it would probably just result in him tightening up more, and despite herself, there was a part of her that wanted Jesse to open up because she _related_ to him. Not to mention the fact that he had saved her and Ben's lives when he could have very well just gone on his way. He _had_ followed them here. She honestly felt he was reaching out to them, in some way...

Maybe she and Ben reminded him of the hunters that changed his life. Whatever the case, she felt compassion for him, and a little bit of camaraderie.

"At least there's that..." she smiled softly at him, honesty in her eyes, before they turned back down to her half-eaten breakfast. "It must've been hard."

"Must've been hard for you, too," he pointed out, though the tension in his posture eased. A thought was resting on his mind, and now that he knew there was a chance he wouldn't be shot down, he said, "I'll stay as long as you want. And if you want me to go, I'll go. I know you and Ben weren't really big on keeping me around."

Her brows pushed down over her nose when she looked at him, but her expression evened out quickly. Claire mulled over her words, considering them carefully, then said, "There's a lot we don't know about you. And a lot we do." Her lips pressed together in the facial equivalent to a shrug. It was the best way she knew how to convey _that's the best I can give you_ without actually saying the words.

"I'll tell you this, though," she added honestly. She kept her tone even, trying not to let it cross into invasive territory. "The more honest you are with us, the better the chances." A hunter's life was _all about_ secrets, but within themselves-in this partnership she and Ben had formed, there was no room for guessing.

Jesse fell silent, eating his meal with a tight jaw. He knew what she wanted to hear - or what she thought she wanted to hear. But even when he'd showed them just a glimpse at reality they'd tried to exorcise him and decided he was too freakish to be around. The knives might come out if they knew the whole truth.

He finished up before saying, "Well, you know everything you need to know about me." His eyes were a little harder when they met hers. The edge was hard to miss, but Claire still felt a distinct ribbon of compassion along with every defense mechanism that rose to his look.

She held the gaze without flinching, but didn't challenge it.

"It's _still_ hard for you... isn't it." Claire went out on a limb with her deduction. He was young-her and Ben's age, most likely-should've been still fresh to the world. With the doors open to him with those abilities, he could be just about anywhere he _wanted_. Instead, he was in a grungy hotel room with _them_. Willingly. Claire's eyes softened a little as she remembered the pictures in his wallet. "You left everything behind for something you still don't know what to do with."

The words were like an arrow straight through him and he bit down on his tongue to keep from reacting. Unable to look at her right them, he got up to throw away his container. "The hunters said I was putting my mum and dad in danger, staying around. So I left. I got by alright."

_Why would they be in danger?_ was the first question on her lips, but Claire held the words back. The way his spine went rigid was enough of a warning; his physical retreat and dismissive words just fell in line after that. Claire followed him with her eyes, but stayed where she was.

"Have you ever gone back?" she asked, genuinely curious, then added, "An eleven year old on his own... even with everything you can do, that's not 'alright'." She wasn't accusing him. Memories of her own isolation pulled at her heart strings. Not to mention she also still had her mother, if only to lose her.

He shrugged the thought off. "Yeah, I go back, every few years. I don't let them see me; probably wouldn't do any good for any of us," he said, though his jaw tightened a bit more. He'd discovered last year that he wouldn't be seeing his father any more, though he'd managed to find his tombstone.

Something about the way he described going back to see his loved ones, but staying in the shadows really tightened the sensation in her chest, and Claire finally let her eyes wander away from him. She pulled a quiet breath in through open lips, and offered him a little of herself.

"Who knows if it would or not-but I can promise they'd want to see you, regardless." Her voice had gone soft. "When I was thirteen, my dad left us. He came back a year later-we found out he was a Vessel, and he'd given his body to an angel." Claire twisted her coffee between her fingers, then took a sip, just to wet her lips. "Hunters followed him, then demons followed _them_." Claire breathed a long sigh. "In the end, my dad chose servitude over Paradise, so I wouldn't have to. I haven't seen him since."

She scoffed a little, though the sound was bittersweet. "He didn't know this was my path _anyway_. I just wish my mother had been strong enough."

The background white noise of the shower running suddenly ceased, followed by the short sound of the shower curtain being pushed back on its rings.

Jesse didn't even register the change, staring at Claire without blinking. An angel. Her father was a fuckass angel. Sort of. If she hadn't said she hadn't seen him, he would have bolted. "What's a Vessel?" he said, the question quiet.

Claire looked back at Jesse from her glance at the shut bathroom door. Her attention split again, listening for Ben if he needed something-but she wasn't going to just barge in. Lots of reasons for that.

"Someone who's been bred to accept possession by an angel. Unlike with demons, it's in the blood." She made a face, briefly-she never liked comparing being chosen by a Heavenly body to being controlled by a demonic force, but the principle was the same. "-and angels ask permission, first."

"So you're not going to become an angel any time soon? Are they going to try and come after you?" He tried to keep his tone calm but spoke a bit quicker than usual. Claire's nose wrinkled in the slightest degree, trying to figure out why the tone suddenly changed.

"If He asked again, yes... but from what I've been following, He's still with my father. Why would he need me?" The subject had never been comfortable for Claire, but the subtle touch of emotion in her voice betrayed how close they were getting to the issue. She carried with her a sense of duty that tied in with her faith, though she was, very obviously, reluctant about it. Anyone would be, after seeing what it had done with her Dad.

There was a sudden yelp and a string of muted curses from the bathroom, breaking the tension building between the two of them. Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Jesse looked over that way.

"You need help there, mate?" he called.

"I can't fucking _bend!_" Ben called back, his voice bordering on a whine. Claire pushed up from her seat and headed toward the counter next to the bathroom door.

"Keep your back straight, just bend your legs," she added, leaning against the door.

There was a brief silence, then Ben cursed again, and there was the distinct sound of something either falling over or being thrown. Claire closed her eyes in lieu of a wince.

When she opened her eyes, they set on Jesse for a moment, then turned toward the door-her hand pushed down the latch and opened it just a crack. "Just me," she whispered, catching the side of his face in the mirror, but keeping her eyes trained _there_. "Nod if you want help."

Ben turned his head sharply at the sudden voice, however soft it was. His face was flushed both from embarrassment and frustration, but he'd at least managed to get his pants up past his hips. He hadn't thought to bring in any clean clothes.

"Can y'get me a clean shirt, maybe?" he asked, his voice barely a mutter. Claire smiled softly at him, nodding.

"Y'mean I get to pick it out?" she teased, hoping to heal a bit of his bruised pride with humor, but turned for his duffel on the counter.


	7. Episode 4: Under The Sea

With a third body in the car and with sitting up hurting more than it was worth, Ben had opted to lie in the back seat while Claire drove them to their temporary vacation spot. He knew without asking that she'd suggested the place as a way to pick up his spirits, but Ben couldn't help feel guilty that he was preventing her from picking up another job.

Truth be told, he wasn't exactly looking forward to The Dells, either. It wasn't as though he'd be able to swim or anything, but people watching had its appeal, as did seeing her enjoying herself. On the trip up he mostly slept, fading in and out as Jesse and Claire made small talk.

They still had plenty of money left on his card to pay for a hotel, but it conveniently became less of a problem when Jesse produced enough money to pay for four nights from his wallet. Ben was really too tired to argue over the ethics, especially considering most of his money had been earned in less-than-moral ways over the past seven years.

Jesse was happy to pay for the place, even though he was skeptical about what kind of "beach" there would be in the middle of nowhere. Still, for the first time since lighting up in the woods, things felt back to normal.

"This is what people have to do around here? They couldn't just move to the ocean for a real beach?" he said, grinning at Claire. It'd been her idea after all.

Claire smirked pleasantly at him, then shared the look with Ben as the elevator slowed to a stop on the bottom floor. "You grow up here, you learn to cope." _Here_, of course, meant the Midwest, where a huge chunk of the natives had never even seen the ocean. Or a mountain. Or anything much bigger than a big hill covered in trees. Despite it only being a few days past the turn into Spring and a bit cold outside, the air that greeted them off the elevator was warm and balmy, and hinted of chlorine. Claire had her khaki shorts and a raw cotton peasant shirt on over her suit. It was enough like summer for her.

"Besides," Ben added. "It's not warm enough for the beach yet. We'll make it out that way when it warms up maybe. If there's a job that way." The sudden swell of voices came at them like a wave.

"Whoa..." Jesse stared. The room itself was overwhelming, like an enormous plasticine mix of playground and tropical beach, but that wasn't what made him stare. What made him stare was the people. "Shit, didn't think there were this many people in Wisconsin."

Claire also stared a little wide-eyed. "It's not even the busy season." Their path down to the sandy stretch of a man-made lagoon was full of stopping, weaving, and avoiding too many small children than should be legal in one place. Even the beach was littered with people, beach towels, coolers and bar cocktail drinks. She briefly thought of the horror that would've been a janitorial job here.

"Ooh, watch it there!" A surprised, but friendly middle-aged woman chirped up at Claire before the younger woman stepped on a partially devoured bologna sandwich. She grabbed it out of the way with a short apology and headed toward the line of garbage cans up by the path. What looked to be her teenaged son, soaking wet and dusted with sand, smiled up at Claire and moved a bit of the family's beach towels.

"Not a lotta room, sorry," he said with his mother's distinct Wisconsin accent.

"You're not lying," Jesse said, shaking his head. "What's going on? Is there a..." What was it that could bring so many people to Wisconsin? "...a thing in town?"

"There wasn't anything in the newspaper," Ben commented, brows knitted together. A small group of children raced out in front of them; Ben stopped on a dime, but his face went tight as the muscle contractions sent pain shooting through the nerves in his chest and abdomen. "Maybe I missed it or something..."

"Who knows," Claire said lightly. She'd spent many a summer vacation here with her family before everything changed. "Maybe there's a family reunion here or something." She dropped her towel and peeled off the wispy over-shirt, then kicked off her flip flops.

Jesse's head snapped right around, no longer caring how many kids were running and screaming around them. He grinned. "Bikini, huh? That's not very angelic." Claire whipped him with her shirt. Ben was also staring, though he was a lot less vocal about the thoughts suddenly racing through his head.

"What?" She looked at both of them, her brows pinched a little over a wrinkled nose, Claire's sign of indignation. "It's the only suit I have."

"No, it's-" Ben stammered out, caught somewhere between trying to reassure her and showing a decent amount of concern as to how _much_ of her skin was showing. There were other women in bikinis, but those women weren't Claire. "It's fine. You look fine."

"Yeah, I've got no problem with it," Jesse said, winking before he tugged off his own shirt and dropping it on the towel. "Let's see if we can find any empty water."

Claire smirked a little at Jesse's wink, then turned her attention to Ben. Her thumbs hooked her shorts and pushed them down to her feet. "You sure you're not coming? Little weightlessness might help."

Ben gave a little lift of his shoulders then shook his head. When he smiled, it didn't quite touch his eyes. "I'll watch. Don't go not havin' fun because'a me." Claire caught that half-dead smile and looked at him softly.

"You could wear your shirt, mate, if you're worried about the bruises," Jesse pointed out.

"Oh, I'm more worried about getting some 10-year-old's foot kicking into my ribs," Ben replied, brows arching slightly. "Besides, this?" he gestured with his hands. "Not a proud water-goer's body. I look like friggin' Casper had a freak baby with a chia pet." Claire snickered a little and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Ben, look around. This is Wisconsin." She leaned in a little closer, secretive and teasing. "They _all_ look like Casper." His shoulder got a warm squeeze; Claire gave him a reassuring smile and slipped away, glancing at Jesse to follow.

"We'll try'n scare some space for you," Jesse said with a sympathetic smile, before following after Claire.

With their backs turned to him, Ben finally allowed himself to frown and sigh in disappointment. He really _liked_ swimming. It'd been years since he'd stepped into water deeper than his knees.

_Stupid vampires,_ he thought bitterly, scouting around for a beach chair to lie in.

'Scaring' up some clear water might've been the only option-the lagoon was _packed_ with floating rafts and flailing children, couples canoodling and a few scattered elderly folks looking just to be left alone. The danger of wayward feet was very real, Claire realized as she waded to her hips and was nearly caught by one flopping by.

"Not gonna get a lot of 'swimming' done here..." she glanced at Jesse, then dipped under the water, just to resurface, pushing her hair back in the process.

Meanwhile, the teenager with the Wisconsin accent tipped his head at Ben when he settled nearby. "Ey, my baby sis had that chair a few minutes ago-just warnin' ya, she was covered in peanut butter."

That time, the smile was real, though he felt a tug in his heart at the memories that filled his mind. "Nothin' I ain't used to, kid, but thanks," Ben said, carefully pulling the towel hanging around his neck down and tossing it lightly over the length of the chair. It took him twice as long to ease into it, his face pinched the entire time until he'd finally managed to find a comfortable, horizontal position.

"So, where you visiting from? You here for the story?" the kid said, propping up.

Without even thinking, Ben sat up. Again, he had to fight off a wince. "What story?" The kid snickered.

"This here's the Dell's first haunted water park. They just announced it over New Years."

Ben's brows arched slightly. So _that_ was why the place was so crowded: _Tourists._ It took all his effort not to scowl. It was very possible the so-called story was a hoax meant to scare up some extra money during the dry part of the season, but sometimes the stories had a lot more truth than people realized.

"Never thought a water park could end up haunted," Ben said slowly, hoping to coax more out of the kid.

"I hear it's a kid that drowned here when the place first opened," he said, sitting forward. "They kept it all quiet and that's why he's kicking up a fuss now, tugging people's hair, whispering in their ears, all that poltergeist stuff."

There was no stopping the scowl that pulled at his face. Another poltergeist. At least this one sounded mostly harmless. "Sounds like just a story to me," Ben said. Still, there was one thing that sounded interesting. "What's it whispering?"

The kid's grin lengthened; clearly he put as much stock into the haunted hotel story as he did the scary-houses at the carnival. "_'Come to the water,'_, or some silly shit like that." He even wiggled his fingers for dramatic effect.

Ben made a show of scoffing. "That all? How's that scary? I've seen scarier stories on the CW." The kid rolled his eyes and laughed.

"It's not. That's the point-s'all a marketing gig."

"Sound like," Ben said with a nod, his eyes searching for the two familiar faces in the sea of strangers floating on the surface of the water. "Looks like it's workin', too."

Looking like she did, Claire got a lot of attention from the young male population. Which didn't bother Jesse, until the splashing started getting out of hand. "Hey, hey, we gotta breathe guys," he said, raising a hand as he got between Claire and the little gang.

Despite the way she cordially smiled and went a long with the gaggle of adolescents-mainly because she had nowhere else to go in the crowded lagoon, Claire was grateful for the blockade-she could handle a lot of things, but kids weren't one of them. They were like exotic animals to her, sometimes. "Yeah, time-out, or something," Claire muttered. She swiped at her face with her palm and shook water out of her left ear. Everything was a little muddled.

"How 'bout a game, then?" one of the older boys called out. He appeared to be the closest thing to a ringleader, because all the other boys immediately went quiet and looked back at him. The boy put a hand through his wet blond hair, his blue-green eyes flashing with mischief. "Marco polo?"

Jesse gave a snort. "Yeah, kid, we aren't twelve. You go for it, though."

The boy made an ugly look at Jesse, turning his eyes to Claire. "C'mon, it'll be fun." Claire looked at Jesse, smirking, then back to the kid. Right-wander around a crowded pool with her eyes closed. Sounded like a great idea.

"Next round. Sure." Claire didn't exactly have a normal teen-hood. She had no idea how to deal with this situation, so she stayed in her default politeness.

"Your loss," another boy called out. They immediately started rough housing again, though there looked to be some orchestration to it because one minute they were all pushing and shoving each other then the next, the older boy was roughly shoved straight into Claire. He seemed to be somewhat ready for it, given the placement of his hand as he fell into her chest-first.

Her eyes widened, the moment seemed to slow in time. There was no mistaking the press of a wet, but warm hand covering most of her breast, and one at her hip, just over the surface of the water. A momentary snap of memory forgot that the kid was, in fact, a kid. Claire snapped at his wrist and twisted him sharply around, until his knuckles grazed the tips of his shoulder blades. A beat later, she shoved him away from her with a huffed breath.

Jesse was only halfway to Claire when it was over. Except there was a flash of maroon that came away with the kid, and out of the corner of his eye he could tell Claire was showing more flesh than before, and covered quickly with both arms folded over her chest.

"Give it here, you wanker," he snapped, grabbing the kid's arm and yanking it back. The kid dropped the top immediately and it floated to the surface, bobbing with the motion of the water. As he snatched the bikini top back, Jesse added, "Acting like that, your hand's the only thing your dick'll ever see."

But the kids hardly heard Jesse, already tumbling over themselves with laughter and congratulations before heading off into the masses. However, before Jesse could get back to Claire, he felt a very strong grip settle on his ankles beneath the water and tug him suddenly and sharply under.

As if Claire wasn't gaping enough. She stood frozen for a half-second, wide-eyed at Jesse's sudden disappearance under the water, before her brows pinched hard in the middle, and shouted, angry, at his shape. "Not the time, Jesse!" Sure, he'd loose his footing _right then_.

All sound should have ceased when he went under, or at the very least muted. What he heard instead was the sound of childish laughter, echoing over and doubling up. Everything was dark and heavy. Then, mere inches from his face and appearing out of nowhere, was the face of a child, her skin and hair milky white and her eyes strangely large with tilting pupils. Her lips curved in a wide smile, flashing pointed teeth. Her mouth didn't move outside of the too-wide-to-be-human grin, but he heard a voice as clear as day weaved in with the continuous laughter:

_"You will return to the Source, or you will die."_

Jesse bucked away, gasping a lungful of water before he broke the surface. He spluttered, his heart pounding. He dug at the water, trying to find...whatever that thing was. Claire was ready to greet him with one of her best glares, but it went unappreciated because of all his flailing. She adjusted her cover on herself so one arm still crossed her chest so the other could snatch back her top.

"Having problems?" she asked with no small amount of bite, then looked at her untied piece of wet fabric like it was a puzzle box, unsure of how she was supposed to get decent again without becoming much more _indecent_ in the process.

Turning around at the words, Jesse's wide eyes met hers. Then he grabbed her arm. "We gotta get out of the water; there's something in the water," he said, low and urgent.

"Wait, Jess-_hang on!_" Claire's eyes went wide as she was suddenly lurched forward by the arm-thankfully the one that _wasn't_ providing her only desperate cover, but the urgency seemed to goad her legs, somewhat clumsily, through the water after him-even though all she wanted to do was pull away. By the time they reached the ankle-deep water, she'd earned her fair amount of stares, her cheeks blazed enough to turn the water on her face to steam.

"What do you _mean_-there's something in the water?" she snipped at him, though quietly, and not before pulling her arm away from him to fold across her chest again. So much for being discreet.

By the time they got to the imitation shoreline, Ben was already there, his face drawn and concerned. The moment he saw her strap-free shoulders his eyes widened and he quickly threw his towel around her, if only to avoid them being thrown out for indecent exposure.

"What the hell is going on?"

"There was- something grabbed me," Jesse said, folding his arms. He shivered in the now too-cold air. "It looked like a kid, except fucking creepy."

Ben's expression darkened. "C'mon, let's get outta here," he said, already leading them in the direction of the elevator which would take them to the dressing rooms.

* * *

><p>"And you're sure you weren't hallucinating?" Ben asked him once they were back in the hotel again. Jesse had told them what had happened while on the way back in the GTO, but he'd been panicked and unable to formulate proper words. Now that he'd had a smoke and a few minutes to collect himself, he'd told them the whole experience in the finer detailed. Claire seemed honestly uneasy at the description of the creature, but Ben had a pretty good feeling that it was just a mental projection of some sort. There was <em>no way<em> something that ugly could just be walking around the water park without causing mass panic by anyone who saw it.

"Fuck you, I'm not crazy," Jesse snapped. The cigarette had calmed his nerves, but that just left the anger behind. Anger that he'd been accosted on vacation. Anger that something had threatened his life. Anger that he couldn't have one moment of normalcy. Not since he met these two. "Why would I even hallucinate something like that?"

Ben put his hands up in a sign of defense. "Just want to clarify. We _did_ find you in the woods smoking dope after all." _Maybe now's not the time to joke,_ he thought to himself. "I've just never heard of a creature like that."

Claire sat on the bed, Indian Style as always, tapping away at the laptop in front of her. "How'd you say the eyes looked? Like a cat?"

"No, like a fish. Big fish eyes," Jesse said, taking a breath and turning from Ben. "And what in fuck's name is the source?"

"Could be a lot of things." Claire was having trouble picturing this... whatever it was, without keeping the shudders down.

Ben attempted to get up from his chair, using his arms to lift his body weight. His arms ached, but it hurt a lot less than trying to sit up the regular way.

"So much for a marketing ploy," Ben said, mostly thinking out loud as he found his computer and brought it back to his table. "A kid at the park told me all the thing did was tug hair and pinch people. It's only been happening recently though. Something must have changed."

"Or the other people just didn't want to admit to seeing psycho fish girl," Jesse said, pacing between them. "We need to talk to the staff, people who'd know what was really going on." Claire glanced up at him from the blue haze of her computer screen. Pacing didn't normally make her nervous, but Jesse was obviously wound tight. She rolled her lips and looked at Ben, then back down to her screen.

"They're only gonna tell guests what they've been told to say. Place is so big, I'll go in as a lifeguard tomorrow. Could you please just _sit_?" Her eyes were on Jesse with a pleading edge.

Biting back the urge to snap at her, Jesse sat hard in an armchair. "Let's just get out of here. If it's not doing anything, it's not a problem."

Ben looked up at him sharply. "Dude. We don't know if it has or hasn't yet. Gotta look it up. There's a process."

"Yeah, I've seen the process, and it takes too long, when I've got some unknown countdown on my head."

"We've all been there several times," Claire started in softly, still typing, then looked over at him. She paused for a beat, then said, "Just leaving doesn't fix anything; not for the people here, not for you." She looked back down at the computer. "Plenty of things like to follow."

"I'd like to see it follow me to Thailand," Jesse said, hunching in his seat.

Ben's jaw tightened behind the screen and this time, he didn't look up as he barked out: "Then go to Thailand. I'll make you a shopping list of stuff to bring back while the grown-ups are at work."

Jesse sat up with a scowl. "Oh yeah? Grown-ups get their asses handed to them by vampires, too?" Claire let out a long breath, and shook her head.

"None of this is helping," Claire said calmly, doing her best to ignore the way she bristled. They'd had their share of ass-kickings, sure, but it was the nature of the beast-and that didn't even include the pang of protectiveness.

"You're absolutely right, Claire," Ben said briskly. "How about the two of you get to investigating since Harry Potter here can't sit still, while I start researching what our timorous beastie might be?" Claire looked at him oddly.

Jesse pushed himself to his feet again, not even looking Ben's way. "Fine, works for me. Let Barbara Gordon here do his thing." He headed for the door.

Claire looked between both of them, feeling very much like a piece of stretched rubber. It lingered on Ben, a silent inquiry written on her face, wondering how she ended up being put in this position. In the end, it was best she keep an eye on the rookie, regardless of his kung-fu magic, or whatever the hell it was. With a sigh, she closed her computer and got up to follow Jesse.

Ben watched them go, once again feeling bitterness burning in his chest. Jesse's words had shot through him like an arrow to the heart, but he wasn't about to walk away from a job. It hurt not to be able to work at full capacity, and to have even allowed himself to get hurt in the first place. Seven years, and sometimes he still felt like an amateur.

"Right," he muttered at the screen.

* * *

><p>That was the thing about big, crazy hotel resorts, or <em>any<em> big, crazy place of business that held their particular interest; upper management rarely had that firm a hold on the lower level employees that it was easy to slip through the cracks, especially for an hour or two. Two days, tops-but Claire was hoping this wouldn't be dragged out. The incident at the pool still left a sour taste in her mouth, and the female version of the Lifeguard swim suits she managed to snag from the linen storage on the sub-level were little more than a sports bra and a pair of thick-fabric underwear. More than the bikini that'd failed her, but still-she was a little gun shy.

"Just promise me you won't try to save some drowning kid if you don't know how," she whispered at Jesse as they headed into the employee break room, where she'd heard the 'shift leader' was supposed to be taking his lunch. She twisted her hair into a somewhat wild ponytail, and put on her best Abercrombie smile.

Jesse gave a snort as they entered and said, under his breath, "I'm not going near the water; that thing is still in there." Plastering on a smile of his own, he headed straight for the lone employee, a kid that looked younger than they were.

"Hey, man, mind if we join you?" Claire started in quickly. The lifeguard looked up from his meager lunch of ramen and a pudding cup with a smile.

"Yeah, sure."

"I'm Mandy, this is my cousin Greg-the new guards? They told us to check with you," she made her smile tip more into one cheek than the other. "'less you're busy?"

"Nah, I'm-" his eyes flitted up to the wall clock briefly. "-pretty much done with my break anyway. Just lemme wolf the rest of this down?"

"Yeah, sure. Not like there's a hurry," Jesse said, his smile pleasant, though a small bit of tension discernible in his words, which earned a barely noticeable look from Claire. After a moment, Jesse added, "It's crazy-busy out there, right? Never seen a place so crowded."

"Probably the craziest it's ever been during the slow season," the lifeguard replied with a laugh. "I'm kinda glad to hear they hired on some more lifeguards. It certainly felt like we were understaffed. I actually pulled 40 hours last week, that almost _never_ happens." Claire pulled out the chair next to the lifeguard with the tip of her foot, then sat down.

"What's so different _this_ year?"

The lifeguard shrugged a little, swallowing a bite of food and frowning. "There's been a rumor about some sort of drowning or whatever, but honestly, there hasn't been a drowning case in almost fifteen years. A few close calls sure, but our team is fast and we're all Red-Cross certified."

"Yeah, good thing," Jesse said, bobbing his eyebrows. "But why would a drowning make people come out? I'd think they'd stay away."

"Y'got me, brother," the lifeguard replied around a mouthful of food, giving another shrug. "People are weird. Rumors flying, et cetera. I haven't really been paying that much attention to what's been said." Claire wrinkled her nose a little, and sat back, slumped a bit in her chair.

"What, like, company drama? Somebody getting sued and it's making the papers from here to Milwaukee?" She put on a sarcastic grin to match her tone. No way this guy just knew there were rumors without knowing what they were about. The lifeguard took a large spoonful of the pudding and swallowed before speaking, but his brows were still knit up in a frown. He looked past them to the door, then back up to them again. Claire followed that look, watching the guy close.

"They're just rumors. Isn't any fact in 'em."

"Generally true with rumors," Jesse said with a smile. "Though, if the tourists are going to be asking us questions, might help to at least know what they might say." In the meantime, Claire pushed to her feet and casually padded to the door. She nudged it shut with a few gentle fingertips, then smiled back at the boys.

"Sorry, couldn't hear anything." She smiled a little intently at the actual lifeguard, and slipped back into the chair next to him. "What were you saying again?"

The lifeguard went quiet for a minute while he picked up his bowl and slurped down the last of the soup from the ramen. With both things done he stood, dropping the packages into the trash before bringing his bowl and fork to the sink to wash. He kept his back to them when he spoke.

"They're talkin' about a girl who drowned, from what I overheard," he said, his voice pensive. "Somethin' about people being pulled under. Lots of people get pulled under, though. It's just kids playin' pranks."

"None of the lifeguards or employees have had it happen to them?" Jesse said.

"We don't typically stay in the water. It's a quick in and out usually," the lifeguard replied, putting his fork and bowl in the plastic dish rack before moving to dry off his hands.

Jesse sagged with disappointment. This was looking like a dead end.

"Well what about you?" Claire tipped her head deep toward one shoulder in an exaggerated 'curious puppy' look that she'd found often got results. "Anything happen to you?"

Obvious tension spread across the young man's shoulders and he looked over his shoulder at them before his eyes darted up to the clock and he started moving to the soda machine on the far facing wall.

"What d'you mean?"

He suddenly got very twitchy. Claire's eyebrows wanted to lift, but she kept them still and even, only pressing her lips together in casual inquiry. She also sent a quick glance toward Jesse.

"Well-_just that_. You act like you been here a while..."

"Four years," the lifeguard replied, making his selection. The machine rattled before popping out a can of Sprite, which he bent at the knees to get then cracked open. He leaned back against the machine as he emptied half the can before speaking.

"Thought I saw somethin' in the water a few days ago."

Jesse's eyes snapped to him a little too quick. "Yeah? What'd it look like?" Inwardly, Claire winced, but hoped the senior lifeguard wouldn't pick up on Jesse's eagerness.

The lifeguard shifted uncomfortably. "You wouldn't believe me if I toldja."

_Try me_, Claire thought to herself, but instead shifted in her chair, angling herself more toward the guy. "That bad?"

His body language spoke in volumes. "Maybe I just swallowed some chemicals from the water or something and it reacted with my meds, I dunno. I've got SVT so..." he gave another awkward shrug and flushed. "But I'm healthy. I can still swim and do my job. Don't tell anybody."

Claire looked at Jesse, then back to the guard. "Dude, we don't know anyone-no worries." She suddenly wished she and Ben had sprung for those two-way blue-tooths so he could be looking up SVT and the meds that come with it. Guess it'd just have to wait. "What'd you see?"

"It was creepy as hell," the lifeguard muttered, finishing off his drink almost reluctantly before tossing the can into the recycling bin. "Almost see-through, she was so white. And her eyes were messed up."

Jesse looked at Claire, his eyes widening as he gave a small nod. That sounded exactly like what he saw. At least that should be enough to convince Ben that he wasn't seeing things.

"Freaky," Claire commented honestly, trying to remind Jesse to keep it all straight with her eyes. She looked back at the guard. "You just-_saw_ this thing in the water? Didn't anyone else?"

"That's why I think it's got somethin' to do with the chemicals and my meds," came the lifeguard's reply. He looked up at the clock again. "We better get back to work. You guys still want that tour around?"

Jesse glanced at Claire. "I mean, not if we're keeping you from something else. We can always catch up later."

The lifeguard looked between the two of them. "You sure?" he asked, double-checking. "If Paul asked you guys to come find me, I don't wanna get in trouble for ditchin'."

"They messed up the schedules anyway-we weren't supposed to start til tomorrow, but, y'know-since we were here, and all." Claire shot him a warm smile. "We'll catch you tomorrow or somethin'."

Jesse smiled, too. "And no worries. Your secret's safe, man."

As he left, Jesse turned to Claire. "Told you," he said, his grin wide.

* * *

><p>Ben's eyes had started to burn with how hard he'd been staring at the screen. There was only so much online that he could look up without having access to city databanks like the library and the newspaper, but he cross-referenced on creatures using the description Jesse provided. He came up with at lest three, but the closest that came up was a river creature called a Mannegishi. He would have to show Jesse a picture of one of the images he'd found to see what he thought.<p>

Ten minutes passed after he finished printing out everything. With nothing else to do, Ben's eyes moved up to the wall clock and then to the door as if expecting them to arrive. They didn't. Ben chewed his lip. Did he make for the shower and the privacy of a locked door, or could he get a quick jerk in with some "aid" while he had an empty room to himself? Technically he _could_ bring the laptop in with him, but he was too afraid of dropping it on the tile or getting it wet.

_Fuck it,_ he thought to himself, clicking open one of his favorite sites and scrolling through until he found a video that looked good. _Party scene. Nice._ Keeping the sound down out of paranoia, he slid his hand between the elastic waistband of his sweats and clicked the video open.

Claire was pretty quiet the entire elevator ride and walk back to the suite. She was going over the game plan in her head; everything they'd learned, even if it wasn't a lot, at least it was a lead. She was admittedly looking forward to seeing if Ben had found anything interesting in his research-focusing on the job that'd fallen in their laps was a bit easier than facing the awkward tension that she and Jesse had left with Ben.

She slipped the key-card in the electrical slot and pushed the room latch down smoothly, and shouldered into the room in front of Jesse. Her eyes naturally found Ben at the table across the room-but only after a second or two of processing did she actually realize what she was _seeing_. Ghosts, vampires, demon fish-people... shocking, all of them, but none made her eyes go as wide as they did right then.

"_Ohgod!_" Her cheeks flash-burned as Claire whipped around, nearly colliding into Jesse's chest.

Not really paying attention before, Jesse's heart jumped at her words. He clutched her close, ready to bolt as he took in the room. And just saw Ben. At the table. Looking like a mortified teenager, with a bulge. He let out a laugh. "You want a minute, mate, we can go."

Ben cursed vividly, his entire face flushed with embarrassment and effort. _Fuck fuck **fuck** shouldda used the shower. Please God, just kill me now._ He'd hit the mute button at the very least, but the damage had been done. He'd never be able to look either of them in the eyes again.

"I'm good," he croaked out.

"Yeah, _I bet_..." Claire's voice was muffled into Jesse's shoulder-she was a little too mortified by awkwardness to chance a look over hers. In a few minutes, she'd be able to fully realize the ridiculousness of the situation. As for the moment, she'd rather let the heat in her cheeks burn away all the images that were suddenly in her head.

Despite Ben's words, the best thing to do would probably take the mortified Claire out of the room and let the mortified Ben resettle himself. With a slight smile, Jesse shuffled them into the room, closing the door before shifting around Claire, who cleared her throat lightly and moved to the bed, dropping her bag to the floor.

"So what'd you find, besides Busty Asian Beauties?" Jesse asked casually.

Ben had closed the laptop and was currently face down in his arms. The angle _hurt_, but it was better than letting them see his face. He gestured with his hand at the papers in a pile on the tabletop.

"Look for the photo," he muffled out in reply.

"Photo? Someone got a photo?" Jesse said, suddenly serious. He shuffled through the papers, finding a picture of a drawing. It looked pretty human, but those eyes. "That's her."

"One'a the lifeguards says he saw her too," Claire added from her spot by the bed, her fingertips rolling a chewed pencil back and forth, back and forth, almost ritualistically.

Hearing Jesse's tone was enough to finally bring Ben's eyes up, but Claire's movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he immediately put his head down again.

"It's a Mannegishi," he said. "River monster. Deadly pranks, et cetera. I think the Source is its river."

"A river? Does Wisconsin have a lot of rivers?" Jesse said quickly. Then, after a thought, "Why would it want me to go there?" Claire stared at her computer screen for a moment, though she wasn't really seeing it.

"This whole area's huge for camping and fishing," she added, but not very hopefully. She went quiet for another moment, then stuck the pencil between her teeth and went to typing. "Too many to narrow it down, unless..."

"Unless they all link back to one source," Ben supplied, still not looking up. Claire tapped a few more times on her keyboard.

"That is one big lake," she spoke around the pencil and turned the laptop around to show them both. This wasn't going to be fun. Claire had a slight irrational fear of being in boats-'slight' being a big understatement.

Jesse leaned close to the screen. "Alright. So say that's what this thing's talking about. What do we do? How do you stop them?"

"Couple ways," Ben said, finally forcing himself to sit upright though he winced the entire time. "Decapitation is the easiest in theory, but the problem is that they're pretty fucking fast and slippery as hell everywhere except their hands and feet. It'd be like wrestling with an eel. But," he added, finding the nearby stack of papers and shuffling through them before he found what he was looking for. "There was... ah, here it is. There's mention of copper poisoning. If we can get a hold of copper bullets, we could probably ice it easy. Even if we can't make a direct kill, it'll poison it to death."

"Copper bullets shouldn't be hard. Get me copper, get me bullets, I'm good to go," Jesse said, looking over at him. "But why'd it tell me to go there? Seems stupid, if it wanted to be left to keep pulling pranks."

"It obviously wants something," Claire added, finally abandoning her pencil-chewing. Her eyes went up to Jesse, though the claim about copper and bullets was still ringing in her head. It just made her feel-_off_.

Shying away from Claire's look, Jesse nodded at Ben. "Think it could recognize there was something different about me? That it might know what I can do?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, man," Ben said, frowning slightly. He wasn't sure he liked how easy hunting had gotten with someone who could recreate anything simply by willing it into being. "We can just buy the bullets. They sell copper bullets."

Jesse's jaw tightened but he nodded. "Alright. Probably better that way. It's hard to get things right when I don't know them real well."

Ben's expression twisted into something closer to curiosity than distaste. So there _was_ a method to it. That was slightly _less_ unsettling. _Can he recreate organic objects too?_ he thought absently.

"So uh," Ben muttered, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "It's late, obviously. Shall we head out tomorrow?" Claire nodded quietly, rubbing her eyes with two pinching fingers, then closed her computer and scooted off the bed.

"I need to get the smell of chlorine off me," she muttered, mostly to herself, already peeling off the thin zip-up hoodie over her tank top. "Then I'll head out for food-think about what you want." And she disappeared into the bathroom.

Jesse saw Ben's eyes on her the whole way and couldn't help but grin. "You're a fucking perv, you know that?" he said as though it were a compliment.

Ben's face grew hot and he scowled, one hand coming up to shove Jesse in the shoulder. "Shut up."

Just giving a laugh, Jesse said, "Watching porn right out in the open when we could be back any minute? Kinky shit, mate. Almost like you wanted her to see you. You'll have to send me the link sometime."

It was very possible Ben's face would simply burn off, both from Jesse's laugh and the image of Claire looking at him like a deer caught in headlights. And it had taken so much longer than normal. "I hate you," he said flatly, wanting to curl up and die.

"Hey, don't blame me, I'm not the reason you gotta yank your chain," Jesse said, holding up his hands in defense. "I'm guessing angel girl could use a little something, too."

Ben flushed further, turning his eyes away from Jesse's face. Was that why Claire had raced off? Just the idea of it... _No, no, no, **no**, abort! Abort!_ he thought furiously.

"God, I need a drink," he muttered sourly. Unfortunately, he'd emptied his flask two nights ago and they'd yet to stop by a liquor store. No doubt it would be closed by now anyway. He'd have to settle for beer, assuming Claire went to a store and not just through a drive-thru.

"Now that's something I can do in my sleep," Jesse said with a grin. "Get me a glass and I'll make the poison."

Ben's brows arched, but he very carefully pushed himself out of his chair and went to get a glass from the kitchen.

"So what, all I tell you is what's in it?"

"Basically. Consider me a bartender on speed," Jesse said, giving him a wink. Ben brought the glass to him, struggling to hold back an excited grin.

"Okay. So, uh..." Ben racked his brain, trying to remember the top shelf brands he'd picked up when he'd traded in his car for cash. "10 Cane, Pyrat XO Planters Gold Reserve, and uh... Crystal Lime Rums."

Jesse laughed. "Fancy works." He held up the glass, concentrating. There was hardly an alcohol out there he hadn't tried. After a thoughtful few seconds, the glass in his hand was full. He handed it over, looking supremely pleased.

Ben took it with hesitantly, which clearly showed on his face as he brought the glass to his lips. His eyes immediately widened as the flavor expanded on his palate. It was _perfect._

"I take it back," Ben said after a sizable gulp. "You are my best friend."

Straightening, Jesse's grin widened, his eyes crinkled in pure pleasure and pride. After a beat, he took the glass back for a gulp of his own. "Oof. Thanks, mate, but I question your taste."

"This isn't a sipping drink, mate," Ben said, mimicking his accent. "This is a drink to get you smashed in a hurry. If I drink for fun, I drink Michelob Ultras."

"Ah, but I think if you're wanting to get in Claire's pants, you really should be giving this to her."

Ben took another deep gulp, then moved his eyes to the ceiling. "She's just a friend," he muttered.

"She already shot you down, eh?" Jesse reached over, tapping the glass to refill it.

"No, she's-" Ben started, then took another gulp. "I haven't- we're partners. It's a bad idea. And she's Catholic."

Jesse winced in sympathy. "Shit. What d'you do to get laid, mate?"

God, when _was_ the last time he'd gotten laid? Ben couldn't even remember; his sole focus had been on hunting and trying to find his father. Any flirting he'd done had mostly been to get info on a case, not really to get a girl in his bed.

"Um."

"Oh mate." Jesse shook his head. He frowned in thought. They weren't going to do any more tonight after all... "Alright, once we got dinner and all that done, you and me are headed out to get you laid."

"Dude," Ben said around a snort. "My _ribs_ are broken. I can't exactly pull out all the tricks when my ribs are broken. I'm off the market for at least six weeks." And truthfully, he wasn't sure he could just leave Claire alone.

"C'mon, if you were desperate enough to wank through the pain, you could stand a blowjob at least," Jesse scoffed.

_Wank?_ Ben echoed in his head, his brows knitting before his face got hot. He'd never had a wing man before. It was such a _normal_ thing to have. The world had gotten so strange now that he'd picked up partners.

"Pretty sure if I go cruisin' for chicks, I should offer them a favor or two in return. I'm not out to be a dick."

Jesse shrugged. "If we go cruisin' for a different kind of chick," he said, imitating Ben, "then I got plenty of cash and you wouldn't need to hurt a rib."

"What, _hookers?_" Ben sputtered, his eyes going a little wide.

Uncertainty crept into Jesse's expression. "Well, yeah. C'mon, don't tell me you've never paid for it."

"Never _had_ to, man," Ben said with the slightest smirk. The idea that Jesse'd only slept with girls he had to pay made him feel better. Maybe he wasn't as suave as he pretended to be. "In case you weren't aware, I'm kind of a big deal."

"Says the man who can't remember when he last had sex," Jesse said, raising an eyebrow, though his face turned a little red. "And I didn't see your 'big deal,' only Claire got a look at that."

"Shut up," Ben said to the last part, then barrelled on. "Just because I don't go scoring chicks all the time doesn't mean I don't get offers. I'm just not-" he rubbed his forehead a little and took a deep pull from the glass. "I watched my mom get her heart crushed by a drifter. It put things in perspective."

That sobered up Jesse's expression completely. He'd had things put in perspective for him, too, though not by his mom. "That's the great thing about hookers," he pointed out. "Everyone gets what they want and no hearts get broken. Win all around."

Ben frowned thoughtfully. Jesse had a point. And it would be nice not to have to go manual for a change. _But Claire..._ he started to think, then mentally shook the thought off. _Is my partner and my friend. We're never gonna hook up. That's just how it's gotta be._

"Okay. You talked me into it." Ben paused, chewing the inside of his cheek viciously. "But so help me, if I catch something, I'm not suffering alone."

Jesse punched his shoulder with a grin. "Luckily, since the last time you got laid, they invented these things called 'condoms' so we should be good."

"Yeah, you got jokes," Ben snarked out. The sound of the shower turning off silenced him instantly.

"Gyros sound good?" he said, hoping to change the subject. He mentally ran through a list of all the foods he could think of that wouldn't unsettle his stomach or make him smell gross, but unfortunately the list was rather short and he deeply feared nerves would destroy all his other chances. Of course, the problem was, would there even _be_ gyros in the Dells at 10:30 at night.

"Yeah, sure, I'm good with anything," Jesse said with a shrug, walking over and sitting sprawled on a bed. He glanced at the bathroom door. "Claire doesn't eat meat, though."

"No, she does, she's just not a fan of sausage," Ben pointed out. "And if she could get away with getting something else, she does. Selective vegetarianism or lacto-ovo or... something, I dunno." He thought back to their little high-end dinner they'd shared back in Michigan and his face warmed slightly. "She had veal once." He paused. "And a maple-bacon donut. I remember."

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "Pretty specific for 'just a friend,'" he said with a sly smile.

Ben scrubbed his face with his hands anxiously. "We've been to five cities and slept in the same bed twice. I notice things. I notice things about you, too."

"Oh yeah? What've you noticed about me then?" he said, sitting up slightly.

The sudden challenge was enough to put a whole new flush in Ben's face. He sent a silent curse to his mother for inheriting the easiness to lose his cool that way.

"Well for one thing, you favor your left side when you're sleepin'," Ben mumbled, eyes everywhere else in the room rather than on his just then. "And some of your vowels go wide instead of tall, so you're not straight-up English or whatever it is you are; you moved there."

"Australian, and yeah," Jesse said, tilting his head to the side with a grin. "And you call me a creeper? Who's watching people while they sleep?"

"We had to make sure you were still breathing and weren't concussed," Ben said swiftly, eyes snapping back to him. Of course, Jesse had slept in the same room with them a second time after that, but Ben had been too drunk and doped up to really be paying attention and none of them had really slept. He remembered listening to the other man at one point when he drifted off for a few brief minutes and turning his head to look at Jesse's back.

_What else..._ "You have a lot of tells. Like, when you're unhappy and thinking about it. Your jaw gets tight and you fidget." Ben smirked slightly. "Or maybe that's just how you always look."

Jesse felt his jaw tighten at that and he quickly loosened it. The bathroom door clicked open; Claire, looking a little pink in the face amid a cloud of jasmine smelling steam, was twisting her hair between her hands with a towel, another wrapped around her middle.

"Figure out what you want?" she asked them both, weaving toward her bag on the luggage rack. Ben felt his tongue swell up in his mouth as his eyes immediately started to track her. He didn't trust himself to say anything intelligent when she was _right there_ and so exposed after she'd caught him in almost a similar state.

Watching Claire as well, Jesse didn't have quite as much trouble. "Ben was thinking gyros. Works for you?" Claire nodded, and slung a pair of jeans and a stretched-neck sweater over her arm.

"Should be a greasy place around somewhere," she commented quickly on her way back to the bathroom. Three weeks of partner-hood, and she was still forgetting that everything should be brought in with her _before_ taking a shower. Claire was pointedly ignoring this particular time's bad timing.

Ben shifted painfully in his seat and forced his eyes up to the ceiling, counting the seconds until he finally heard the door shut. _Definitely using the shower from now on,_ he thought to himself, reaching blindly for his drink and taking a deep pull from it. The effects were _finally_ starting to kick in.

Jesse looked over at him with a grin, but Ben was looking away, so any vulgar gesture would go unappreciated. Instead he got up. "Can I use your computer?"

The words 'make your own' made it halfway to Ben's lips before they died. Instead he simply turned the computer toward Jesse, but not before suddenly turning it back and making a few quick clicks to delete some of the history out of his browser window. The last thing he wanted was to give Jesse ammo into how his brain worked.

Smirking slightly, Jesse didn't comment, just sitting down and getting to work. He had some entertainment to find for tonight.

* * *

><p>Dan clicked off the television and chucked the remote to the other end of the couch as he stood up. His little studio apartment didn't really have much in the way of a bathroom, just a little stand-up shower, much to his continual disappointment. Some days, his body ached so much he would have loved nothing more than to soak in a hot tub until the water went cold, but it was all he could afford on his wages. Such was life.<p>

It was just another average evening, save for the weirdness at work that kept creeping up in his thoughts. The two new employees and their questions had left him feeling anxious, and flashbacks to that brief moment in the lagoon the prior week plagued him for the rest of the day. His doctor hadn't mentioned any chemical reactions to his meds but he _had_ given him a referral to a psychotherapist. Dan had sighed and stuck the paper into his back pocket, then forgot to take it out when he'd ran his washing. The paper had been reduced to pulp. He'd call his doctor in the morning and ask for the number again.

Maybe it was just stress. Stress made people hallucinate, didn't it? He'd never heard of it happening before, but surely he wasn't the first to have something like that happen to him. Work had been strange and money had been tight, it made sense that it was starting to get to him in the worst ways.

Dan flipped on his iPod dock on the bathroom counter and turned on the shower before starting to undress. With a quick hand test he slid in and shut the little glass door behind him, closing his eyes as he stuck his head under the showerhead. It only took moments for the water to drench his hair and make rivers down his back. He concentrated on the heat, willing it to ease the strain out of his muscles.

It took about ten minutes before Dan realized the water had started to come up to his ankles. Frowning, he opened his eyes and looked down. Had the drain plugged up again?

"Goddammit," he muttered, bending down to check it. The water was _freezing._ What the hell was going on? Standing, he tried to flip off the faucet.

But it wouldn't turn off. In fact, the water had also gone cold. Dan's eyes widened. Suddenly, the water pressure increased to the point where it hurt and Dan yelped, dodging out of the way and making for the door.

It didn't open. He tried it twice and seriously considered smashing through the glass. He could feel water swelling upward from the drain beneath his feet. By the time it was up to his chest, he was in a full panic and screaming:

"HELP! SOMEBODY, HELP!"

He kicked and banged at the glass door, but it didn't give. There was nothing strong enough in the shower to really do any damage. Dan's eyes flew around the space wildly. The gap at the top was too small for him to push himself through. He was trapped. In no time, the water came up over his head. He willed himself to float, to get up to the top and keep screaming.

But then there was a grip on his ankles, yanking him straight down. All light and sound disappeared. In the darkness, he heard the eerie laughter from the water park.

Out of the darkness, he saw her milk white hair and skin, then her eyes opened. Any scream was choked off by water flooding into his lungs.

* * *

><p>The GTO eased to a stop in front of a plain brick apartment complex, building number four. Claire, who had donned the sleek gray and charcoal suit commonly used for impersonating professionals, took time for a long breath, and looked at Jesse. Pretending to be some college drop-out lifeguard was one thing-this was another entirely.<p>

"Okay, so..." She rolled her lips, trying to figure out the best way to go about this when the idea struck her. Her eyebrows lifted simultaneously. "Can you-y'know," she made a sort of 'magical' hand gesture. "_make_ a professional looking camera?"

"Um. One that can work?" he said, his eyes overly large. He hadn't worn a suit in...ever, and he had no idea how he was supposed to act, and it _showed_, at least-to Claire. She shook her head a little and stuffed her keys in the inner pocket of her blazer.

"One that looks and _sounds_ like it works." She turned a glance out the driver's side window, watching the city detectives leave in exchange for the coroner and his intern, who disappeared inside the building. "Also, take off the jacket and tie."

"Yeah, I can probably do that," he said, shrugging off his jacket before dealing with the tie. Holding it in his hand, he concentrated a moment, until he was holding a basic SLR camera. "Alright. For me or you?"

Claire smirked faintly at him. "_You_ want to be a corporate insurance adjuster?"

Jesse smiled back. "No thanks, I'll be the dumb grunt with the camera." She smiled a little easier, then slipped out of the car.

All it took was a quick run into the apartment leasing office and a few well practiced glances around to determine just what company she was supposed to be coming from. The complex's manager was already too flustered to notice anything amiss, besides the dead tenant in 403B. On the way to the apartment itself, Claire 'suggested' that Jesse just 'take as many pictures' as possible, and keep an eye and ear out for anything of use. There wasn't really a training protocol for these things, and she couldn't help but feel awkward about it. And nervous.

Inside, the coroner and his underling stooped over a newly closed body bag. Jesse froze where he stood, staring down. It took a nudge from Claire for him to snap out of it and raise the camera.

"Don't mind us; Helen Cartwright with Almstead Inc." Claire smiled her business smile down at the coroner. "Can I get the quick version, or you gonna make me wait for the report?"

"Can I see your credentials, Ms. Cartwright?" The coroner asked, brows furrowed. Claire didn't miss a beat, though in her head, she felt everything below her neck tighten.

She looked at Jesse. "Kyle, would you mind?"

Jesse stared at her. "Oh. Oh, right," he said grabbing for his wallet. He flipped it open, revealing what was some kind of identification-looking paper. His voice took on a firmer cadence as he said, "There's all the information you need."

The coroner leaned in to look at the paper, then up at Jesse with the barest hint of a frown. He ran a hand over the back of his neck and sighed, then turned to look at his assistant before speaking:

"Victim drowned in the shower," he said at last. "Don't know _how_ exactly until we get back to the lab and run a full autopsy, but from a quick look-over the skin was gray and the eyes were cloudy. We found silt residue on the shower tile as well, but we'll need to run a lab to see where it's from. Assuming it wasn't just washed off from a trip there or somethin', though why the hell anyone would go swimming outside at this time of year is beyond me."

_Silt in the shower?_ Claire had already zeroed in on this call when it cracked over the police scanner as a _drowning_, but the details were, of course, not exactly advertised. This only confirmed it. She caught Jesse's eye and pointed casually toward the shower while she wrote things on a rather useless clip board, and glanced around their surroundings. Jesse started faking taking photos, leaning in close to check things out. There was a heavy smell in the shower that made his stomach roll.

That's when she caught the open medicine cabinet, and the orange prescription bottle inside. Claire looked back down to the coroner, stepping a bit out of their way. "Possible homicide?" It was possible to drown in a shower's bottom worth of water, but it was difficult without help.

"You'd have to ask Detective Hall about that," the coroner answered, giving a nudge toward the lone uniform-dressed man mulling about in the small space. "I just play mad scientist and get paid for it." Claire pushed a small, commiserative chuckle, but it didn't reach her eyes. She kept them busy by getting closer to the medicine cabinet to catch the name on the bottle, then headed with purpose toward the hallway.

"Well, thanks anyway," she sighed, jotting something with finality on her clipboard, then caught Jesse's eye and nodded toward the main room of the apartment. "We'll get the contact info from the manager after a few photos, then be out of your hair."

Moving ahead of her, Jesse faked photographing as he went along, not sure when he should stop. When he hit the living/bedroom/kitchen area, he glanced back at Claire. She followed behind him shortly, but stopped with a look at a picture on the cheap IKEA entertainment center.

She said nothing, only stared for a moment, and ignored the sick twist in her stomach that came with realizations of this nature. Claire looked over her shoulder to Jesse, then nodded solemnly at the photograph. There, smiling with his arm around a blue-eyed redhead, was the lifeguard from the resort break room.

Frowning slightly, Jesse followed her nod. Then his stomach dropped out. He stood stock-still for a while before rushing forward to snatch up the photo. He had to be sure, but he was stopped cold by Claire's hand on his wrist and a sharp warning in her eyes. The words _Don't touch_ shaped by her lips, but remained quiet.

Jesse stopped, looking at her then back at the photo before lowering his hand. That guy in the body bag was the same guy they'd been talking with yesterday. The same one who'd made him feel sane again, the same one who'd seen what he saw. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd been given the same warning.

"Guess I got a couple days," he said quietly.

* * *

><p>Ben stared blearily at the screen as he read through the fourth document he'd found. It was really a wonder that he hadn't permanently injured his eyes from having sat up so close so often.<p>

"_How are you feeling?_" came the voice over the phone tucked up against his ear.

"Sore as hell," he replied. "But I'll be okay. I've got meds and I'm staying a couple weeks with a friend while I recover."

"_I wish you'd come home. Matt could easily get you in to see one of his colleagues-_"

"And what would they tell me that I haven't already heard from the doctors at the clinic?" Ben interrupted, his eyes turning off to the side in his frustration. "Mom, this stuff happens sometimes. I'm fine. It's not as bad as you'd think."

He could almost see his mother's skeptical look.

"_I'm not trying to nag you, baby,_" she said after a moment, the tone in her voice shifting to another angle. "_I just know you. You're not the type to just sit around and recover._"

"Believe me, I don't really have a choice in the matter," he grumbled. "Even if I could move, I'm pretty sure my friend would have no problem tying me down."

"_Ben, if this is some sort of sex thing-_"

Ben cracked a smile, but interrupted her before she got too far. "It's not. Is Krysta there? Can I talk to her?"

"Found anything?" Jesse said, rushing up from nowhere. His voice was tense and he leaned over Ben's shoulder before he could answer. Ben jumped, then yelped as pain exploded across his nerve endings.

"_Ben? Ben, are you all right?_"

"Yeah mom, sorry, I sat up too fast," he said through gritted teeth, glaring at Jesse over his shoulder before he shoved him lightly backward.

"_Krysta's over at Amber's house, but I'll tell her you asked for her._"

"'Kay." Ben gestured at the screen and carefully slid out of the chair. Jesse sat, trying to read what Ben had up, but his heart was racing too face. His eyes couldn't focus on one place at a time.

"_Make sure you keep alternating hot and cold. It'll help you heal faster._"

"Yes, mom. I gotta go, pizza's here. Love you."

As soon as Ben hung up, Jesse turned around to face him. "Summarize, alright? If I wanted to read all this I'd've done it myself."

"So get this: the resort is damming up a section of the river so they can turn it into a rapids ride," Ben explained, shoving the phone into his pocket. "They started working on it two weeks ago." He paused, realizing Claire was missing. "Where's Claire?"

"In the car," Jesse said with a shrug. "So you think that's why it's going all Samara on people's asses? Getting, what, revenge?"

"Well, I'd certainly be pissed if someone had put the equivalent of a wall through the middle of my house and told me only this much of it was mine now," Ben answered, his eyes on the door with a frown before he turned back to Jesse again. Had she told him to go ahead because she didn't want to come into the hotel room first? His face heated up a little in embarrassment. _I'm never gonna live this down,_ he thought mournfully, but was interrupted by a text message alert on his phone. He tugged it out and looked down at the message:

**He with you? Never gonna get used to the Houdini stunts.**

Ben felt his lips twist as he texted back:

**Bouncing around like a bee on crack, yeah. ETA?**

Jesse watched Ben with a frown. "Yeah, but would you go and drown some lifeguard because of it?" He felt his hand give a quake and he pushed himself to his feet. "I gotta piss."

Ben hummed in answer as his phone buzzed again with Claire's answer:

**10 min**

Once again he pocketed it, then moved to lean back against the wall sharing the door.

"It doesn't know who's in charge. Monsters aren't exactly known for being rational," Ben explained. "What'd you guys find out from that call-in?"

Standing at the toilet, Jesse stared at the water, finding it oddly unnerving. Why'd they have to fill toilets up so high?

"The guy was drowned in his shower," he said, overly loud. "River silt on the tile, so two guesses who." After a pause, he added, "It was the lifeguard we talked to. The one who'd seen her a few days ago."

Jesse zipped up; his bladder might be bursting but he couldn't get anything out.

Ben winced on the other end of the door, but for the first time it wasn't because of the ache in his ribs. That was _not_ a good sign and he could hear the anxiety in that beat of silence between Jesse's words.

"Don't worry, man," Ben said through the door with conviction. "We'll fix this. You're gonna be okay."

Jesse opened the door. "Fuck yeah, we are," he said, his jaw set. "Gonna go down to the lake right now and empty a round into its head."

"Yeah, 'cuz it's just gonna be there on the other side of the door waiting for trick-or-treaters," Ben said flatly. "We don't even know where its lair is. It could literally be _anywhere._"

"It told me to go to the Source, I'm going to the Source," Jesse said stubbornly. "If it's not there, I'll worry about that then."

"Jess, c'mon," Ben reasoned. "Don't be stupid. We bust this dam open, we might not even have to go after it. Weren't you the one sayin' before that we should just get the hell out of here? No need to go killin' somethin' if we fix the problem."

"This thing followed him _home_," Jesse snapped. "It killed him when he was taking a fucking shower. I'm not going to bust a dam and hope for the best. Unless you wanna know what I smell like after never taking a shower again."

The room lock clicked when Claire swiped her key card and pushed inside and closed the door behind her. Jesse got a quick, slightly annoyed look before she started peeling off the blazer, and tossed it on the bed.

"Got the ammo?" Ben asked, carefully stepping around Jesse and moving over to Claire. She nodded and pulled a rattling cardboard box from her bag. "You would not believe the looks I got while getting those."

"Lucky for us we've got an unlimited supply now," Ben replied, casting a look over to Jesse. He knew without asking that the other man would load up and keep firing even after they'd run out of originals.

Jesse gave a try at a smile but wasn't really feeling it. He looked at Claire. "The resort built a dam on the thing's river, that's why it's getting revenge, Ben wants to bust the dam and make it happy instead of going after it," he summed up. "I'm ready for the gun, personally."

Claire's brows furrowed slightly when she glanced between the two of them, lingering on Jesse. The fact that he'd jump so quickly to that 'simple' plan of action wasn't necessarily surprising, but she had to admit, she was slightly unnerved. The thing had threatened him, and he was obviously not used to that-not like she and Ben.

"At least let me see if there's a history of deaths like this before we go putting a bullet in its melon," Ben argued. "Far as we know, this is the first and only death. Please."

Scowling, Jesse shoved his hands in his pockets. If it was one of them, they wouldn't be taking this so lightly. He took a deep breath, letting it out slow. "What if we go there to talk to it? It's got a reason for telling me to go there. Find out what it really wants," he said as evenly as he could manage.

Ben looked at him with arched brows, studying his face, then narrowed his eyes slightly at him. After the scene Jesse pulled only moments ago, he somehow doubted the other man would try at the rational angle. The only way he could guarantee the thing didn't get shot would be to go with him, but he couldn't. His memory flashed back to Claire and their first hunt together. Claire, who had a shapeshifter wearing her face and barely hesitated putting a knife into her heart. He swallowed, then threw his hands out before letting them drop to his sides.

"Yeah, okay," he said at last. Claire's lips pressed together in a tell of apprehension, but she pushed it from her mind in order to focus.

He'd expected more of a fight, but Jesse would take it. He turned to Claire. "You coming or not?"

She nodded at him, then met Ben's eyes, silent for a beat. "Keep looking?" she finally said. "It's a good drive..." _and if I can avoid being in a boat, that'd be great._

"Yeah," Ben said with a nod, his face pulled downward with a frown. "Be careful, okay? Both of you."

"At least we'll see it coming," Jesse said, heading for the door.

Claire stood at the steps of an old wooden dock at the edge of the marina parking lot, giving the weathered sign a good staring at: '_Boat Rental_,' followed by a number of other services and prices taunted an old irrational fear that she was not looking forward to facing. She sighed silently, and looked at Jesse.

"Looks like we have two hours."

Giving an irritated snort, Jesse started off down the shoreline. "We weren't that deep when it grabbed me. Maybe we can get its attention from here," he said, stopping to toe off his shoes and pull off his socks. He then started rolling up his pant cuffs. Claire folded her arms against the deepening chill, and the breeze that was coming off the lake. That water looked frigid...

Thankfully this wasn't exactly peak time for people wandering around the lake. Barely Springtime, and a few short hours to dusk, most fishermen and recreational boaters had better things to do. Still, as she stepped up to his side with a careful visual sweep of the area, Claire couldn't help but wonder just what he thought he was going to do. She'd never encountered one of these things before... 'winging it' just wasn't her favorite MO.

Jesse hissed as he stepped up to the edge of the water; it felt like ice. Just one more reason to hate this thing.

"Don't worry if it grabs me," he said back at Claire, taking a step in. "I can get out of it if I got to." Claire didn't exactly look convinced.

"And then what?"

He shrugged. "Then we shoot it. I can do it if you want," he said, holding out a hand.

_Shoot it_? Her head tipped deep toward one shoulder and stayed there, her brows furrowed, but then looked out over the lake. Something about giving him her gun didn't fill her with confidence, but she reached into her jacket and stepped into the water-shoes and all- to hand it over. "You realize this thing can basically turn into water, right?"

"Yeah, well don't drink any then," he said, taking the gun with an attempt at a smile. "It let me go once. Maybe it'll just say it's piece and we'll be done with it." Claire snorted and suppressed a shiver that came from the slow seepage of cold water into her boots.

"Cause that happens all the time..." she said more to herself than anything.

"Well, maybe I'll have beginner's luck again?" He smiled for real before wading further. "Hey!" he called out across the water. "I'm here! Rude to keep me waiting!"

There was silence, save for the sounds of spring birds and wind on water. Claire's fingers flexed into each other, keeping warm. She supposed this should feel silly-but her instincts were still vibrating her nerves.

Then suddenly even the birds weren't chirping anymore. Faster than what should have been possible, Claire felt two hands tighten like vices along the ankles of her boots and yank her backwards toward the lake, pulling hard. She barely got out a shriek before freezing water cut through her clothes and stabbed her with a thousand pins. Claire thrashed against the grip, but it only tightened... and her screams were cut off by murky lake water as her head disappeared below the surface.

Jesse jerked around only to almost stumble as Claire sped past him under the shallow water. He dove forward with a yell, grabbing for her, but she was already too far. Shoving to his feet, he tried to run after her, but the water was like frozen molasses, holding him back.

"Claire! Claire!" he screamed, up to his chest. "Bring her back, you bitch! What do you want?" Taking a panicked breath, he ducked his head underwater to yell. "What do you want?"

But his screams went unanswered. Deep beneath the lake's surface, the Mannegishi had wrapped herself around Claire's body, pressing her face mere inches away from hers as she stared into eyes. There was no laughter like Jesse and Dan the lifeguard had mentioned; only the deep muting silence of the water.

"_You blocked my river,_" an echoing voice rang in Claire's ear. "_The fish won't come, the water grows black, it's your fault._"

In the murk and gloom, the overly-large eyes and ghastly white figure was all Claire could focus on, save that and the crushing pressure promised on her lungs. It gripped her from legs to shoulders like a tangle of kelp, unfazed by her panicking efforts for freedom. Her heart slammed against its cage and what little air remained in her chest burned like acid-and the longer it went on, all Claire could think was _God, please, not now_.

"_I'll die here. I can never leave for long, forever. I have been here since the Glacier carved through the land, but **you ruined it**_." The Mannegishi exposed her teeth, feral and furious. "_You with your poison and your walls and your waste. You should suffer as I have suffered._" Her grip tightened exponentially, as though she was determined to wring the remaining air out of Claire's lungs.

_Break the dam!_ Her desperate scream bubbled out from her throat toward the surface; her bones creaked and ground together in the grip and the cold ceased to matter-all she knew was the spirit's voice, and pain.

One ring, two, three... Ben paced around the room wildly, his free hand continuously moving up through the back of his hair.

"_It's Claire-_"

"Dammit!"

"_Leave me somethin' go-_"

Three other deaths had been reported within hours of the lifeguard's death, all with similar circumstances. One person in the bathtub, another found face down in a sink full of dishes, the last in a fucking _car wash._ He hung up and tried back again, hoping to God that they simply had the radio up too loud. It had been the third call, though, and there was still no answer.

"Jesus Christ, Claire, _answer the damn phone!_" he snarled into the empty room.

Jesse appeared at his shoulder, rivulets running down his body and pooling on the carpet around his soggy shoes. "It got her!" he said, his voice hitching.

Ben felt his heart slam into his ribs and his stomach bottom out.

"AND YOU _LEFT HER_ THERE!" he roared, panic and rage screaming through his body. Ben lunged at him, grabbing him forcefully by the shirt, completely blind to his own pain. "YOU GET HER! YOU BRING HER BACK!"

"It took her into the lake!" Jesse said helplessly. "I tried to make it come back, to tell me what to do, but it didn't come back!"

"THEN EMPTY THE FUCKING LAKE IF YOU HAVE TO!" Ben shouted, shaking him like a rag doll before shoving him backward and pushing his hands forcefully through his own hair. _Oh god, oh god, oh **god-!**_ "MOVE IT!" he added explosively when the other man remained frozen in place.

"H-how? I don't know what to do!"

Every second that Jesse floundered was a second robbed from Claire. She might already be dead. Ben quaked with the thought. "_You're_ fucking Magneto, you idiot!" Ben hollered. "Blow up the fucking dam! Make the river move! _JUST DON'T STAND THERE AND LET HER DIE!_"

Jesse stared at him with wide eyes before disappearing, popping up near the dam that Ben had pointed out earlier. He was shaking from the terror and cold but there wasn't time to hesitate. He hadn't done anything close to this since he was eleven, but there was no way he was failing today.

Clenching his fists, he let the terror and anger rage through him. His jaw clenched and his brows drew down tight. The ground began to shake. _Faster, c'mon, c'mon!_ He could feel warmth trickling downward from his nose. There was a creak, then a massive crack as the dam split down the center and water came rushing forward.

Jesse didn't stop. Running along the bank, he started wading in. "You got what you want! Give her back! Let her go!"

Claire broke the surface of the lake with the hardest breath she'd ever taken in her life. Sweet, cold air still felt like lava forced down her throat, and her brain felt boiled in her own blood-but she was _breathing_. Jesse waded straight for her, nearly falling in his rush.

For the briefest moment, a silvery shape appeared in the water, rapidly swimming off in the direction of the now-flowing water. Jesse's eyes snapped to it in an instant, the relief washing away in anger. He snatched the gun from his belt and fired, fired, fired until the clip was empty and the gun just clicked in his hand. An inhuman screech sliced through the air as the creature briefly broke the water, then disappeared beneath the dark waves again.

Claire barely registered the gunfire. Exhaustion and lack of oxygen had drained her muscles to the point of uselessness, and anything left was very quickly sapped away by the cold. Weakened instincts curled her fingertips into the fabric of Jesse's shirt. The shivering alone was going to break her apart. Jesse pulled her close, tucking the gun back into his belt.

"I got you, Claire," he said quietly, his hand coming under her knees to lift her tight against him. "You're gonna be alright."

She got heavier as they got closer to shore but he didn't put her down.

"_What happened?_" Claire croaked out weakly through the chatter of her teeth.

"It got you, but I got you back," Jesse said, fighting his own shivering. Reaching the shore, he set her down gently. "One sec."

Gathering some of the fallen leaves that had survived the winter, he shook them out into a fuzzy, brown, and most importantly, dry blanket. He hurried back to Claire, wrapping her up. "Did you see it? Did it say anything to you?" She nodded and closed her eyes, trying to force the involuntary shuddering down, along with the image.

"It was pissed," she paraphrased flatly, pulling the blanket around her. Claire met his eyes, and hoped they would convey her lack of interest in reliving the event. "What did you do?" Her sentence cut off by a thick, wet cough hidden behind her palm. It made her eyes water.

She looked so frail, so wholly unlike the Claire he was used to. He lifted her up again. He'd never popped out with someone before and now wasn't the time to test it, so they had a long walk back to the car ahead of them. "I broke the dam, holding its river back. And then I shot it." He surprised himself with how little remorse he felt.

She allowed herself to be picked up for the sheer absence of strength _anywhere_, every scrap of Claire's energy was going toward breathing and keeping warm. She could feel him shift and walk under her, hear his words with a slight echo-thanks to the water in her ears. But something tightened her bracing grip on his shoulder, though she couldn't lift her cheek from the other.

_Broke the dam_. That explained her sudden release, but at what cost? She wanted to force the thought from her mind-the elation from escaping death was starting to settle in. Claire couldn't handle that heaviness on her soul just yet.

"_Good job_," she uttered, and let her eyes close again, finding an unexpected but welcome comfort in the sound of Jesse's heart under her ear. She just wanted to be away from the water, warm and alive. She wanted to see Ben.

He felt a pang of pride at the words but just nodded, concentrating on his steps. They hurt at first but his bare feet quickly grew numb in the cold. When they reached the parking lot, only one other car was there, and it looked like the driver was already on the docks. Jesse set her down by the passenger door; no way he could open it while still holding her.

"Y'should give Ben a call while I drive," he said through a shiver.

Sleeping was always going to be a problem, Ben noticed. He could either seriously dope up on drugs and crash, risking the grogginess the next day; or he could drink himself into a stupor, and risk the hangover. There was no real middle. He didn't like either option, but he also didn't like the pain, and what if there was an emergency in the middle of the night? Both options left him unable to fight.

So he didn't overdo anything. He took two pills and enough booze to make his head swim a little, then tried to sleep. It worked, but his hyper-awareness of the bed not too far away from him kept him from totally dropping out. Claire was still awake.

"Hey," he whispered into the dark, hoping that Jesse was asleep or at the very least not paying too much attention.

Nightmares had always been a part of Claire's life. There came a point in their level of experience that nightly disturbances were to be expected. She let them come, endured them, and moved on-normally. Recently, the visions seemed more unrelenting than usual, or maybe there were parts of Claire's subconscious that were worming their way to the surface, jarred by the changes brought into her life.

Either way, sleep seemed a far reach tonight. She recognized that something had to be dealt with, faced, or otherwise worked out for her mind to settle, unfortunately her mind was not _settled_ enough to focus on that goal.

She turned her head toward Ben's soft call, giving him a sleepy look that said everything that was looking right back at her. Claire sighed through her nose, deflating her chest under the cheap blanket.

"Hey."

"Wanna sit on the balcony?" he offered in the same hushed voice. Her eyes flicked from him toward the sliding doors, and the balcony overlooking the resorts closed outdoor pool. Then moved back to him, a faint twist on her lips.

"It'll be cold..." but her tone suggested she was fine with that.

"Grab a blanket, then," he offered, already starting the slow process of sitting back up so he could slide off the bed.

The temperature outside was just barely above freezing, and nearly brought a sudden swear out of Claire's lips when it hit her, still warm from the bed. The balcony was bare of any furniture, since the resort hadn't put out the accommodations for summer yet, leaving just a wooden rail, about chest high, to lean on. She shivered once, then forced the natural sensation down into her core, but it still shook her breath.

Ben slid right up next to her the moment he shut the door silently behind him, moving so that the blanket draped around both their frames. Without even the slightest hesitation, his arm settled gently around her waist. Claire's chin twitched in his direction, her lips touched by a soft smile.

"Talk to me," he murmured. She huffed lightly, and looked out over the black Wisconsin night.

"No more lakes for a while?"

"Agreed," he replied, his lips curving upward briefly. He gave her side a light squeeze, silently encouraging her to keep talking. The squeeze was soft enough not to make much of a difference, but it still tightened her breath a little. She made up for it with one that was deeper-than-normal and leaned closer, sharing warmth.

"So much for a little vacation," she looked up over her shoulder at him, her chin lifted for the height difference between them. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized consciously how much taller he was. "Hope you got _some_ R&R, though I'm not sure how..."

"No such thing in our line of work," he said quietly. He might have had a chance to lie down, and Jesse might've shown him a crazy good time that first night, but when it came down to the monster and the madness, he'd never felt so stressed and upset in all the years he'd been hunting. He hadn't been able to do _anything_. It was _terrifying._

"From now on, I plan the vacations," he added as the memories of the night he sold his car slowly returned to him. Claire smiled tiredly, but felt a bit warmer for it.

"Deal." She leaned a bit into him and closed her eyes. The comfort with his presence was growing less alien as time went on-even if it came with the occasional spike of awkwardness. _This_, though, was possibly the most comfortable she'd been in several days, even out in the cold. The silence stretched on comfortably between them for a few moments before Ben spoke up again.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked gently.

Her eyes opened again, only to turn up at him quizzically, though the look that he returned made her chest constrict, and she didn't feel so confident. If she was able to be figured out by _anyone_, Claire figured it would've been him.

"God willing," she answered quietly. _I feel lost_, she said in her head. His arm squeezed her lightly again. Obviously she didn't want to talk about what had happened, and he wasn't going to force her. He just wanted to let her know that he was there.

"I mean, I've lived through worse, right?" Claire felt the need to add that for her own benefit-the 'it could always be worse' ploy often worked, but for some reason this all felt, somehow different. She shook her head and pushed back a few blond flyaways that stuck to her cheeks with the wind. _Had_ she lived through worse, though? _Didn't feel like it at the time_.

Claire went quiet for another moment, turning her thoughts inward. Remembering everything that went through her head when her lungs felt like they were being burned away by acid in need of another breath. The thing had held her there, in that state, for longer than should've been natural. She could remember with sick clarity as it forced air into her lungs, then wrung her out again until she screamed and the water invaded her. It _felt_ like eternity. Suddenly, Claire's eyes stung, and her face tightened.

Ben felt Claire slowly tensing up and frowned, turning his head to look at her.

"Hey," he murmured, turning her gently toward him and looking down at her in concern. "Hey, it's okay. I'm here. We're all okay." She looked up at him with sharp, watery eyes, fighting the flood, the sting and the crystal-clear realization that she'd come to while at the brink of oblivion. The memory of his similar experience - with her as it's _witness_ - returned to her, as well as the pain that came with it.

"How many _close_ calls have you had?" She asked it honestly, though her voice barely cracked a whisper.

"Too many," he said without even a pause. "Especially when I started out, and most of 'em because I hadn't researched enough first. But that's the nature of the beast, y'know?" He moved a hand up to sweep the hair out of her face. "You forget you're made of glass when you're in it to win it." She nodded knowingly, commiserating with him without so many words, but was unable to hold his gaze in that moment when he brushed her hair back.

"I don't remember how many times I've prepared myself to die." Just saying those words, Claire felt the burn back in her chest, and it sapped away a lot of the strength it took just to make them verbal. _And it's always been the same, until now_, she added in her head, but didn't have the breath for it. She brought her eyes back to his face. Ben swallowed hard, caught up in her gaze and the weight of the words. He knew right then she needed him to reassure her, to say something to lift her out of the darkness.

"You can stop any time," he said slowly. "But could you? Knowing there's people out there who need to be saved?"

Her lips pressed together hard, and she shook her head faintly. She could never abandon her path, but stopping wasn't the question, even in her internal chaos and fear. "Before-it'd been easy. _Terrifying_, but I was always able to accept it. _This time_," Claire felt like her stomach was tying itself in knots-a form of fear itself, born by this conversation. But it'd been started, and there's no way she would stop now. She was just finding it near impossible to shape the words.

Ben felt the energy shifting between them like static electricity or magnets. Something scientific. His brain had started to malfunction, that much was certain. Was she going to say what he thought she was going to say? Did he want her to say it? He visibly swallowed, looking back and forth between her eyes.

"I know," he said at last, his mouth a little dry. "Me, too." He'd felt it back in the vampire nest, on that cusp between life and death. Ben still felt it. It had been the thing that kept him fighting, even when the pain was so great he could hardly see through it. The faded memories started returning to him in his panic for Claire's life when Jesse had abandoned him in the room, knowing she was drowning and that he could do nothing to stop it.

Four words. Four, simple words, he'd spoken and somehow made sense of everything the chaos in her head wouldn't let her. Claire could read it like a script in the honesty of his eyes. Again, she felt the shake in her chest and found her hands lift from her sides and very gently cling to the sides of his shirt at each hip. She could accept death and martyrdom before, when her mother was dead and she was chasing the ghost of her father, when no ties kept her tethered to a mortal life of servitude. But now it was different-and that realization brought with it a whole new set of fears.

Ben swallowed hard again, his heart racing, the sound rushing up in his ears so that he could hardly even hear himself think. Not that there was much to think about, really. What was happening now was instinct. Just as he started to lean in though, a thought finally formed in his head: _She's scared. This is a hallelujah moment. She's reaching out because she's scared, not because she wants you to kiss her, you idiot._

He licked his lips and sighed, pressing his forehead lightly into hers.

"I'm always gonna be here, all right?" he vowed. "I promise."

_This_, it was _this_ that she was afraid to leave behind; that she could feel her indoctrinated system of faith wavering for. This new degree of closeness amplified every strong connection and feeling that brought Claire to her realization, and she was struck dumb with the sheer potency. She'd visualized moments like this since meeting him, but not consciously-not _always_-but the weight of his brow against hers and the subtle scent she recognized on a cellular level enveloped her completely.

She closed her eyes and forced a slow, shaky sigh. She wanted to kiss him, and didn't banish the thought immediately. It lingered and pricked nerves behind her jaw, which tightened in a swallow. The memory of her desperateness under the lake was the only catalyst she needed. Claire tilted her chin, her movements choppy and pensive. The touch of his nose against hers pricked another delicate nerve that held her breath tight, but it was nothing to the electricity sparked when her lips brushed his.

It was only brief, chaste pressure, but it exploded along Ben's synapses, sending a shiver through him. This wasn't a dream. He could smell her shampoo, and that subtle note that was all her, filing away with every other sensation - the texture of her hair against his cheek, the softness of her lips, the heat from her body and her breath. His dreams had never been able to recreate a body so perfectly, he knew that from experience. Feeling a flicker of boldness Ben moved a hand up into her hair, threading into the strands as he pressed a little closer.

Claire finally found breath when what little distance that was between them dissolved. She could feel him tense and breathe against her, the tentativeness in the hand that delved into her hair. Her heart pushed itself into her throat, but his acceptance and nearness went hand in hand with the bond they'd formed on top of her complicated, hidden desire. She kissed him again, more confidently, more inviting, and tightened her grip in his shirt, barely able to register caution for his injuries.

He felt the flit of her tongue against the seam of his lips and just like that, his brain switched gears. The hand in her hair shifted to the back of her head as he eagerly deepened the kiss, the taste of her mouth completing the file in his mind. Hallelujah moment or not he was, without a doubt, completely smitten by her. They had been drawn together by fate, he knew that now. This had always been meant to be. Every part of it felt right.

Until she pressed a little too enthusiastically against him. Then he was unable to stop from wincing and breaking away with a sharp inhale. Claire immediately let him go, though the sudden separation seemed to pull the last bit of air from her lungs.

"_Sorry_..." she breathed, and tried _not_ to feel like her knees were made of marshmallow. Her eyes searched his face for reassurance that he was alright, but she couldn't help the way they kept returning to his lips. They were so warm...

"S'okay," he assured her in a similar tone, his hands sliding up to her face, each kiss punctuating his sentences. "If it weren't for my ribs, I'd probably crush you to me. And if this is a hallelujah moment, that's okay, too."

The subtle crack of humor made her smile against his lips, a laugh or two on her words. "_Hallelujah_ moment?" She couldn't help but wonder what he meant by that. Claire leaned her cheek into his hand without realizing the action, and more than once had to struggle to keep her hands feather-light where they touched.

"Because of the close call," he clarified, kissing the tip of her nose. She wrinkled it by reflex, and couldn't keep her hand from wiggling between them to brush away the tickle-but she was still smiling. It was hard to imagine anything could properly wipe it away at that moment.

"Maybe a little..." Her cheeks felt warm under his hands with a heat that made up for her purposeful understatement. Claire pressed her brow and brushed his lips again. "Funny, the moments when we're the most honest."

Something inside Ben deflated a little, but he managed not to let it show on his face. Whatever happened would happen naturally; he wouldn't press his luck. Now that the boundaries had been blurred a little, though...

"Think you can sleep better now?" he asked her quietly.

_Sleep_? Her mind hadn't been able to turn itself off before this-_now_, Claire doubted she could even slow her thoughts, not for a while anyway. She brushed her hand on his jaw and then through his hair, her shoulders sagged slightly with her exhale. Claire closed her eyes.

"Maybe. If you stay with me."

The words instantly eased the disappointment straight out of him, and Ben leaned in to press his forehead against hers again, smiling.

"My bed or yours?" She smiled against his lips and shook her head delicately.

"Doesn't matter."

Ben smiled too, and without pulling away from her he steered them back through the glass door and toward his bed. It would only be sleeping, or possibly lying awake next to each other, but the most important fact was that it she'd always be next to him. That was all that really mattered.


	8. Deleted Scene: Feel the Word

The water is hot, but not hot enough. Beneath a cone of steam and soothingly forceful jets of the resort shower, Claire pushes her fingers through her hair from her brow. Thick, heavy and hot with the water, the curls cling to her fingers and shoulders and chest. It rinses away tensions and thoughts, but not all of them. Not the ones she wanted gone in the first place.

Images are in her head she can't get rid of, all fighting, gasping for attention she's made it a point to neglect. The focus of her life was clear, and had been so streamline, so flawlessly devout to ways that had been described as that of a 'warrior monk', and was not geared to accommodate things like loneliness, or desire. Things like the heated dreams and chest-constricting wants she'd been bombarded with since she joined her path with Ben.

An ache is coiling tight well beneath her naval, and has been there for days. She feels it more than ever when her fingers fall from the wet cling of her hair to the high curve of her breasts and lower. The water doesn't seem to compare.

Her eyes are clouded, her lashes heavy with droplets as she breathes slow; the temptation has never been so strong, so unrelenting and horribly _perfect_. What would be the harm, to relieve her own suffering-to vent these thoughts and feelings that otherwise refuse to leave her any peace? Her hands move lower; one slides with the water across the flat of her pelvis to the hard plane of her thigh. The fingertips of the other slip between the soft lips between her legs, slow and deliberate. She gasps faintly with the new rush of heat. The need coils tighter at her core, _aching_ and excited, desperate for the touch-but in her mind, it's _his_ fingers, thick, strong and battle-hardened; careful as they drag over the hood of her clit, then in slow, targeted circles.

Her thoughts revel in her surrender to temptation, and swirl like wraiths waiting to possess and let her mind and body go wild. _His_ fingertips press harder and his breath is on the hollow of her throat. She catches a soft groan of need before it grows to fruition, but the heat and weakness in her spine tilts her head back-the shower water pours over her face and she gasps it in. Her eyes open with the sudden, almost forbidden idea.

Claire swallows silently. The bathroom air is heavy and hot, but the shower wall is cold, and it makes her breath hold when it hit her back, the coaxing touches between her thighs are abandoned for only a second, enough time to grab the movable shower head from it's brace on the wall. She twists the nozzle until hot water pulses from a triangle of thin slots in the center, and positions the jets, hungrily, between her legs.

The heat is sudden and shocking; Claire's eyes squeeze shut quick before relaxing, her lips open in a silent and almost airless gasp. Pulsing pressure buzzing against her sex, flooding her senses with an electricity that quickly became too much to contain. Her knuckles whiten on the handle while the other hand drag fingertips into the sleek ripple of her muscled torso, taut with each jagged breath.

Whimpers desperate to leave her tightened throat are just barely kept to herself-her eyes clench and her lips gape and gasp. In her mind, she feels him-his body is close and moving the way _hers_ was moving. She hears his voice on his breath in words of growled encouragement. She sees his eyes as they flick across her curves and spark in her gaze each time he drives himself into her. Pleasure surges from the vibration, building and building as heat and tension at the base of her spine until she is shaking with locked muscles that give in a trembling whole body quake.

Despite the innate flood of dogmatic guilt that spreads from her pleasure, she comes hard and tensing against the unyielding water, silent except for hot mix of her breaths with the sound of the running water. She holds onto it, riding it as long and hard as her body can stand it, until her knees are weak and she's slack and panting against the slick shower wall.

Reality slowly comes back into focus from the red and black static behind her eyes, distorted from being closed too tight. Her fingertips are tingling and her thighs tremble. Weak, in the body and in some ways -as she sees it- in spirit. Shame, however shallow, cools her thoughts yet deepens the flush to her cheeks and the freckles on her chest. He was still right outside the door. She wouldn't be meeting his eyes for a while.


	9. Deleted Scene: Sex & Candy

He may have said he'd been convinced, but the longer Ben sat in the lobby while Jesse went on schmoozing the staff looking for information, the more anxious and paranoid he became. Every moment he was there he felt more and more guilty knowing that he was there while Claire was asleep in their main room, completely unaware of what they were doing. How would she react if she knew? What would she think about what he was about to do?

Jesse's confidence was enough to make him feel incredibly inadequate. The front desk clerk was all but falling over herself flirting with him. He looked more relaxed and in his element than Ben had seen him in four days. And there he was with broken ribs, sitting in a lounge chair alone, sipping from his hip flask while he waited for Jesse to secure them a room for the 'transaction' to take place in. Madison wasn't too far from the resort, only a twenty minute drive, but it felt like he was in another world.

_What am I **doing** here?_ he asked himself for the hundredth time, taking another deep pull and staring upward at the ceiling.

"Stop looking like a man who's about to go to the chair," Jesse chided as he came over, flicking Ben's ear. "C'mon, we got our room and the ladies'll be up soon."

Ben grunted painfully as he forced himself up to standing again, following after Jesse. It was only when they were in the elevator that Jesse's words finally caught up to him.

"Wait, _one_ room?" he asked, his voice going a little high in spite of himself. He tried again. "Y'mean we're gonna be in the same room?"

Jesse raised an eyebrow with a smile. "Someone's gotta keep an eye on you," he said. "It's two beds, mate, and there's a curtain if you get all nervous. But if they end up giving you the hot one, I wanted a shot at her, too."

Ben felt his face heat up indignantly. "I'm not nervous." _I've just never been **watched** before,_ he almost added, then clamped his mouth shut. The last thing he wanted was to look uncool around the other man right then.

Holding back a response, Jesse led him down the hall, swiping the key at their door. There was a short hall, with a door leading to the bathroom. It was overcrowded, with a toilet, sink, and jacuzzi tub. At the end of the hall was a beaded curtain that opened to a narrow room. Instead of sitting side by side, the beds faced each other from either side of the room. A thick, cranberry curtain hung between them, though it was currently pulled back. There was no other furniture, unless you counted the mirrors on the ceiling.

Jesse grinned as he turned the lights down to 'mood.' "Good, huh?"

"This is like the set of a porn movie," Ben said, anxiety twisting in his voice. Images of what the room would look like under a black light flashed through his head and he felt his stomach clench uncomfortably.

"Considering what you watch, you should feel at home," Jesse said with a grin, claiming a bed by plopping down on it.

"So help me, if I get a single rash, Jesse."

"Lighten up, mate. You wear a condom, you won't catch anything."

Ben scowled. "Yeah well, scabies can be on sheets. Just sayin'." He gingerly crossed over to the other bed, sitting down much more carefully before slowly easing back on it.

Jesse rolled his eyes but there was a knock at the door before he could respond. Bounding to his feel, he told Ben, "Stay there and get comfy." Then he disappeared through the beads.

Quiet voices came from the door, and then feminine laughter. It wasn't long before the beads parted and a woman with long blonde hair walked through, her smiling eyes instantly on Ben. Her pale skin practically glowed against the shimmering gold of her little sheath dress and she wore strappy stilettos that wound up her legs. In the dim light, she almost maybe could have passed for a sexbomb version of Claire. Except a lot more top heavy.

"Hi there," she said in a voice as smooth as warm honey. Ben visibly swallowed, looking past her briefly to see if there was a second girl or not before turning back to look at her with a weak smile.

"Hi," he managed, thankful that his voice didn't crack.

As the girl walked towards him, Jesse came through the beads with his arm around a second girl, a curly-haired brunette. The Australian had managed to lose his jacket and half his buttons already. "Don't worry, mate, I already told her to take good care of you," Jesse said with a wink. Then he turned all his attention to pinning the brunette to the bed with his body, his tongue thrusting eagerly past her lips.

Ben's eyes widened a little as the brunette easily pushed up beneath him, one ankle hooking behind his knee and her skirt hiking up her very bare leg. The shameless voyeurism was cut off however when he felt the blonde move her hand to his face and turn his eyes to hers. Fortunately her eyes were green and not blue.

"First time?"

Ben shook his head firmly. "Not ever, no. Just... not like this."

"You're in for a treat then," she reassured him, then pressed her mouth against his. Ben's eyes closed instantly. It had been far, _far_ too long.

Slowly deepening the kiss, the woman's hands gently cupped his face before one hand slid back and up into his hair. Her other hand ghosted over his chest before resting on his upper thigh. She rubbed it back and forth, working closer and closer to the center.

Every little inch of movement made him burn with sudden and unbelievable need. Instinct told him to sit up, to pin her down like Jesse had with his girl, to rut into her and fuck her until she cried out and trembled beneath him, but he knew he couldn't. His body ached from the denial and knowing there was nothing he could do about it himself, he grabbed her hand and pressed it more forcefully against his covered groin. The satisfaction was immediate, but it wasn't nearly enough.

Smiling against his mouth, she pulled back, her hand giving him a squeeze. "Don't worry, baby, I'll take good care of you," she said, sliding to her knees before him and working at his buckle as she stared up at him.

Movement behind her caught Ben's eye. It was Jesse, getting off his bed to stand at the foot of it. He faced his own girl, whose breasts were already free of her dress. In one clean movement, he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his well-sculpted back. Jesse toed off his shoes as he worked off his belt. Yanking off his socks, he took down his pants and boxers in one smooth move. There was a clear tan line at his waist, above a rounded ass.

Ben's eyes widened slowly as he watched, his mouth going dry as he took in the sight of his new friend's frame. The fact that Jesse was unaware of his voyeurism made him that much harder and Ben twisted his hands in the blankets beneath him, wishing he could sit up better without hurting. He felt his pants going slack as the blonde between his knees worked them downward just enough to release his straining cock. Ben inhaled sharply at the first touch of her hand, cursing emphatically as pleasure raced outward from its source to every nerve. He felt as though his senses were being assaulted on all sides, but it was far from painful. It was _awesome._

The damp, warm hand tightened at his base before sliding up the length of him. At the same time, Jesse's girl crawled forward, dipping her head over his erect cock. She was slow and methodical as her lips ran down his shaft. As she pulled away, smiling, Jesse shifted onto the bed, condom now in place. Kneeling, he turned the girl around, pressing her back against him. They were still turned away, not quite profile, but Ben got a good look at Jesse's hand kneading her breast. The other man leaned in close, whispering something in her ear that got an emphatic nod.

Bringing a hand to her neck, Jesse bent her over, her ass high in the air but her head against the comforter. Arching over her, his cock against her ass, he whispered to her again.

"God, yes!" she keened. That was apparently what Jesse was waiting for, because he slid his hips back and thrust inside her.

Ben's groan joined the brunette's, and not just because his girl had finally slid her lips over the head of his cock. It was very possible that this was the most erotic thing he'd ever been involved in, and his ex-girlfriend Beth had been rather kinky in her own right. The sights and sounds of Jesse pounding into the girl were almost too much for him, and yet he found himself wanting more than anything to be closer; to feel the heat radiating off of them, to be able to touch and taste. His eyes finally drifted down to the blonde as she worked him over, but in that brief glazed-over moment he saw Claire - all sun-kissed skin and softness, her sky-blue eyes piercing through him to his very core. He pushed his hand into her hair and thrust up into her mouth hard, his mouth falling open and his head falling back.

"_Fuck!_"

Jesse's head jerked around, his eyes finding Ben and his mouth falling open in a smile. From his vantage, it really looked like he was watching Claire give Ben a blowjob. His body tightened with pleasure, a moan pulling from his throat.

Jesse's answering moan from across the room sent a shudder through him. He felt something inside him twist in just the right way and then he lost control, his hips rolling up into the wet heat of the blonde's mouth as he came. She kept her lips moving on him until she'd milked him thoroughly. Pulling away, she kissed his thigh as her practiced hands unsheathed him.

"You weren't joking when you said it'd been a while," Jesse said, breathless but smiling as he continued his steady thrust. His eyes lingered on Ben a moment longer before quickly turning away, his hands gripping his girl's waist as he upped the pace

"Shut up," Ben panted out, his hands moving up into his own hair before his head fell bonelessly backward again. Her mouth still felt good, even after he was done, and he could feel little pulls of desire along his nerves again as he reached blindly for a pillow to prop his head up with. His eyes once again landed on Jesse and his girl and he stared hungrily at where they were joined and the flash of his cock on every withdrawal. Ben licked his lips and tried to swallow around a dry throat, barely restraining the urge to call them over to his bed. The distance wasn't nearly close enough for him to watch properly.

The Claire look-alike worked his pants all the way off before joining him on the bed, following his gaze. "You like that?" she said, as though it was the sexiest thing in the world. She lay beside him, pressing wet kisses to his neck as her hand pressed between his legs. "Let's get a better view, shall we?"

Before he answered, she called playfully, "Why not give us a show?"

Jesse and his girl looked over, smiling. "Alright then." Turning to face them, Jess pulled the girl up so her back was flush against his chest. He palmed her ample breast while his other hand pulled back her hair, exposing her neck so he could lick his way down it. "Make it good, baby," he said with a hard thrust.

"Oh _god_," she keened to his command.

"Christ," Ben hissed out, his hands white knuckling the blanket beneath him. He could see _everything._ With each of Jesse's thrusts, the girl's left breast bounced, her little sounds of passion high and neverending. Ben watched as Jesse's other hand drifted down between her legs, finding her clit and circling it with precision. The words were out of him before he even knew he was saying them:

"How's his cock feel, baby?"

The brunette whimpered in response, her head falling back against Jesse's shoulder. Ben felt his own girl's hand drift up his thigh until the back of her hand brushed against his half hard cock. Her touch made his toes curl, but he kept his eyes on the couple fucking in front of him.

"Y'like how he fucks you? Tell me what you want him to do to you."

Jesse's mouth fell open in a silent gasp, his hips snapping eagerly at the words. Ben had gone from a bundle of nerves to, well, one of the sexiest damn things Jesse had ever seen. His hand worked eagerly against the girl and her hips responded in kind.

"_Oh_, just like that! So good!" she crooned.

His hand coming off her breast, he gave her ass a swat, pulling a gasp of a scream from her. "That's my girl," he said, his eyes darting to Ben.

By that point, Ben was back to full staff yet again. His blonde girl curled her hand around him and slowly started pumping and it took no time for him to find her rhythm, his hips rolling up into the touch. Ben looked up at Jesse's face in that brief moment and their eyes locked. That same twist from before happened but stronger this time and Ben swallowed hard, refusing to turn away. His face felt like it was on fire.

"Yeah," he breathed out, his hand coming up around the blonde's and forcing her to pump harder. "Fuck that tight little cunt. Make her beg for it."

Jesse wanted desperately to do as he said, but the look in Ben's eyes, the sound of his voice, he was far too close to the edge to survive it. Roughly pinning the girl down again, riding her hard until he came with a snarl.

Easing out of her, Jesse rolled onto his side, sprawled across the bed. He gave his girl's ass another swat. "Go help your friend. And make sure she rides him good," he said with a smile.

***

It was nearing 3AM by the time they finally got back in the car and started back to the resort. They'd only been in the car for about ten minutes but already the weight of what had happened was settling in him. That bone-deep satisfaction was all well and good, and the amazing images replaying in his head would more than fulfill his material for private times later, but something else was clawing at his brain. He'd never came so hard in his life, not even with Kim, and he'd loved her. How was that possible? Ben rolled his lips over and over as he drove, trying to focus on the music blaring out of the speakers and not the hot body sitting inches away from him.

Jesse laid his head back against the seat, his arms resting along the top of the benchseat, his eyes closed. It was a position of pure bliss. He couldn't remember the last time sex had left him so bone-deep happy. Even other group situations with other guys hadn't been like this. Maybe it was Ben, who knew more about him than anyone else in the world, except for Claire. Every time their eyes met it had been electric, as though he could see right through him.

"Thanks, mate," he said, using the barest of movements to pat Ben on the shoulder. "Needed that more than I realized."

Even the brief touch was enough to pull a shudder out of him, but Ben just hummed in answer, flipping on the turn signal to get into the next lane. It was Jesse's idea to call the hookers; his idea to use another hotel; his money that now lined their pockets after Jesse had sent them on their way. The two young women had been extremely reluctant to go, going as far as to give them a free day 'on the house' if they were up for it, but Jesse had been insistent. Ben found himself deathly curious as to why, but he knew there was still work to do.

Or maybe it had more to do with the fact that there was no need for them. The thought made Ben swallow hard.

"I should be thanking you, but okay," he said at last. He worked his jaw silently, but didn't add anything else.

"Told you," Jesse said languidly, as smug as a cat. "Hookers are the way to go. They're happy, we're happy. No sticky emotional complications."

Ben hummed again but deep down, he wasn't so sure he shared those same thoughts anymore.


	10. Episode 5: Greatest Hits

The bar was crowded, so they had to be careful wending their way in, with Ben's ribs still sore. Fortunately Jesse had a way with making people move.

"Bar or booth?" he shouted back Claire's way. The freckles on her nose wrinkled a little in response. Looked like they picked the popular bar; or the _only bar_. It was an interestingly wild crowd for such a one-horse town. Claire craned her neck to look around and adjusted the bag over her shoulder.

"I don't think there are any booths _open_."

Ben followed a few steps behind, his arms protectively wrapped around his chest to keep from getting nudged particularly hard by the press of bodies. It was like being in a night club. It made him uncomfortable. Why were they even _at_ a bar, when they had Mr. Bartender-on-Speed on tap? He scowled a little, watching as Jesse's hand drifted around Claire's hip to pull her away from an elbow geared toward sticking her in the side and stay there.

"I can always find an open booth," he said with a grin, leading them that way. There was a group of five college kids crammed into one booth, looking a few rounds in. Jesse walked up, leaning over their table. "Hey, you're done with this table. Get up and take your glasses with you," he said, his tone surprisingly friendly.

There was a chorus of "Oh yeah" and "No problem" as the group quickly cleaned up and got out of the way. Jesse stopped the last one, handing him a $50. "Buy the next round on me, alright?" he said, patting the guy's shoulder before sliding into a seat.

Claire rolled her lips and tracked the small group as they filtered through the thick crowd, then turned her gaze to Ben, and finally Jesse. Something she chose to ignore twisted her stomach, but she cleared her throat and waited for Ben to slide into the booth before her. Ben's face pinched at having to fold up in order to do so, but he looked slightly more relieved once he was settled in.

"So what'll you have, Claire? I'm buying. But not for Ben, here. He's gotta start paying for his own stuff, like a real man." After a beat, Jesse laughed, elbowing Ben's arm. "Just kidding, mate, I got it." He lifted a hand to wave down a waitress.

Ben's jaw tightened but again he stayed silent, his fingers drumming out a staccato that remained unheard in the dense noise of the bar. "Someone's gotta drive us home," he said at last. "I'll stay sober." Claire could tell he tensed up without looking, and she couldn't blame him-Jesse's teasing was, in her opinion, a bit ill-timed. She gave him a mild scolding look, but tried to push it to the back of her mind. They were only here for one night.

"Whiskey."

"Y'know, mate, cup of coffee will sober you right up. Swear on my life," Jesse said, his hand still raised for the waitress. "And if the last thing you drink is a shot of tequila, you won't have a hangover."

"Maybe for you," Claire answered before Ben could, her lips twisted into a slight, unconvinced smirk. "I know _my_ body chemistry doesn't work that way."

"It does when you're with me," Jesse said, bobbing his eyebrows as the waitress finally reached them while Claire rolled her eyes. "Two whiskeys... You sure, Ben? Swear on my life, it works."

_I'll bet it does,_ Ben thought bitterly. He was starting to wish he'd stayed at the hotel. The idea of Jesse getting inside his head and changing how his body worked like he had with the people in the booth left a sour taste in his mouth.

"Fine," he said. "One. Make it rum, though."

"And a rum!" Jesse added triumphantly. The waitress smiled back at him before hurrying off.

"I better not smell that tequila on you tomorrow morning," Claire mused, thinking about the week ahead. Thanks to a bad first experience, the aroma of Patrón made her stomach hurt, even more so when she and him would likely be getting very physical, and close. She sat back against the vinyl and watched him, brows raised to show her seriousness.

Jesse laughed. "Don't worry, babe, I'll brush my teeth for you." Claire chortled in quick response, squinting at him in a mock-but-not-so-mock warning.

"Thanks for that, but you keep calling me 'babe' and I'll keep throwing you into trees. I am not _babe_."

"Yes, ma'am," Jesse said with a mock salute. "Although I do like it when you throw me into trees."

Ben bristled, then suddenly spoke up in a very clear voice: "I gotta get something from the car." Claire glanced at him for a beat, puzzled, but brushed his leg lightly under the table before scooting out to let him pass. Jesse watched with a frown as Ben disappeared into the crowd. It wasn't right, the busted one having to make the trek again.

"Save the table, I'll be right back," Jesse told Claire, heading after Ben.

Oddly enough, Ben wasn't headed toward the door. He'd made a half turn and weaved sideways through the bodies on either side, clearly heading for the bar instead. He was completely unaware of being followed. His frown deepening, Jesse finally caught up with him at the bar.

"Hey, mate, what's going on? I was coming to help you with the car."

Ben scowled but didn't look at him. "Fuck off, wouldja?" he said in a bitter voice.

Jesse's head jerked back slightly. "Shit, don't you think you should drink before becoming the angry drunk?"

"Why don't you just take her into your lap and fuck her in front of me?" Ben retorted without even missing a beat. The bartender dropped a shot in front of him and he knocked it back within moments.

There was a pause, then Jesse let out a bark of a laugh. "Are you serious? What, you want me to call you 'babe,' too? Get a grip, mate."

The insinuation that he was jealous of Claire hit him first, followed quickly by the burn of humiliation as Jesse laughed at him. Ben finally turned his head to glare at the man full on.

"You don't think I haven't noticed how buddy-buddy she's gettin' with you? Ever since this whole training shit started. The both of you are gone before I even get up most'a the time. Why the hell even invite me along if you just wanted to be alone together?"

"Buddy-buddy with me? Maybe I've missed something. Whose bed is it she's sleeping in again?" Jesse gave a show of thinking it over. "Oh right, _yours_. Y'know, if I wanted to fuck her, I could, and I woudn't need to take her to a bar to do it."

"No, you're just doin' _that_ to fuck with _me,_" Ben countered, his fists balling up. "Wouldn't want me to miss it, right, Jess?"

Even Jesse had trouble answering that. He stared at Ben, then turned to the bar, then back at Ben. "You got a reason _why_ I would do that? Kinda curious here, to hear my whole diabolical plan."

Ben sneered, turning back to the bartender again and gesturing for another one. "It isn't fun just getting what you want. Y'gotta have other people watchin' for it to really count, ain't that right? Stealing something is better'n just havin' it."

That one hit home, and Jesse's expression tightening. "You're fucking pathetic," he said, his eyes hard. "All it takes is a little flirting and you lose your shit. No wonder you were so useless at the Dells."

Two weeks might have passed since that hunt, but it still stood out fresh in Ben's mind. He carried that helplessness with him still, made worse by the fact that twice Jesse had stood up to the challenge whereas he'd been unable to do anything. Driven by fury, Ben curled his hand into a fist and punched Jesse square in the jaw, snapping his head to the side.

There was a long pause before Jesse turned back to him, adjusting his jaw. "Really, Benny? That's all you got?"

The thrown punches easily drew the attention of the rest of the bar; countless eyes turned in their direction, the bartender motioned for the bouncer by the door, and Claire caught everything from where she stood near their booth. She started shouldering through the spectators, dead intent on getting there before the make-shift security did.

Ben crowded straight into his space, glowering down at him. "You have no idea what I'm capable of," Ben said through clenched teeth. Busted ribs or not, he wasn't afraid to prove his point if he had to. "Just 'cuz you played hero for one hunt doesn't mean shit. Remember that."

"Two hunts. I've saved her twice now." Smirking, Jesse put his hands between them and gave Ben a light push. It wasn't much, but he knew that the state Ben was in, it would be plenty. The push knocked Ben back into another man at the bar, who had been observing them with interest rather than trepidation like the rest of the patrons. He seemed unphased by the fact that half of his beer sloshed down the front of his shirt. Ben didn't even notice, coming right back at Jesse with a much harder shove.

"I'm gonna have to ask you boys to leave," said a large, balding bouncer who had pushed his way toward them. He put himself between the two young men, his expression stern.

"We were just heading out," Claire nudged through a second later, an apologetic smile turned to the bouncer, the bartender, and a few of the crowd before a very _clear_ look was exchanged between Jesse and Ben. Confusion was there, so was concern and annoyance. The words _Would you both **grow up**_ mouthed to each once as she moved to herd them toward the door.

Jesse stepped back, though, giving the bouncer a shrug. "I'm staying. It's his fault, anyway. All these people saw, they can tell you." There was a murmur of assent around them. The bouncer hesitated but a look at the bartender granted permission. Shooting a sneer back at Ben, Jesse headed back towards their booth. Staring at the back of his head for a moment of momentary disdain, Claire's surge of annoyance sharpened.

"_C'mon,_" she hushed into Ben's shoulder. Jesse didn't exactly need a ride back anyway.

* * *

><p>Claire had tried to get him to speak up all the way to the car and then on the drive back to the hotel, but Ben remained close-lipped to her attempts. He couldn't remember a time in his recent past where he'd been so angry at any one person.<p>

All he'd wanted was a temporary reprieve from what he knew what was happening, and Jesse had to steal that from him, too. He was useless. It didn't matter that Claire was sleeping next to him if she was training his replacement.

Ben left the door open as he stepped through it so Claire could follow him in, but he wanted so much to slam or break something. He felt the pent up energy buzzing beneath his skin like a wasp's nest, and it was hard for Claire to miss. She shut the door behind them and dropped her bag on the arm chair, looking at his back.

"Can you _please_ tell me what's going on?" She had asked in the car and gotten no response, the atmosphere becoming thick and tense. Nothing had changed when they were locked together in the room.

"It doesn't matter," Ben grunted, making his way to his duffel bag to find his flask. Fortunately for him, Jesse had filled it the night before and he'd only had two gulps out of it. He had every intention of finishing it off that night, though.

"I think it does," she countered with a frown. "I know he was being a tool, but you know better than to flip out in the middle of a crowd..."

"Don't you side with him," Ben spat, twisting off the cap as his anger suddenly focused on her instead of their still-absent friend. "He fuckin' followed me. _He_ started it. Christ, I just wanted to give you guys some space so you could make out in peace." She looked at him like he just grew a third arm out the middle of his forehead for a moment before her expression turned a lot sharper.

"_What_?" The words stung, but his tone and the look in his eyes hurt worse. "I don't-what the hell am I supposed to say to that?"

"The hell _is there_ to say?" Ben countered, feeling heat rise up into his face. She hadn't denied wanting to, and that was almost as bad as Jesse's words back in the bar. He put the mouth of the flask against his lips and quickly started to suck it down.

"How about you're being paranoid?" She felt blindsided and cornered, and suddenly started pouring over every little interaction between her and Jesse, picking things apart for something she did or even _thought_ wrong-for _anything_ that would justify this sudden explosion. She had noticed slightly lingering looks from Jesse, but his flirtatiousness wasn't exactly something new. It drew her eye and her thoughts on occasion, but nothing deserving of this.

"I saw how you pinned him the other day," Ben said when he finally pulled the flask away, his eyes clouded over with all the mixed emotions twisting in him. "You didn't have to hold him down as long as you did, and I _saw_ him push up underneath you. _I saw it._ I'm not fucking blind."

Claire's eyes went a little wide. "You mean-" then they narrowed a bit, remembered the third time of several that she'd forced Jesse to the ground because of his inexperience, when he dared to joke and grind on her. "Did you happen to miss the fu-" she stopped herself from swearing and closed her eyes, trying to force calm. "You see the right hook I gave him right after? Last I checked, that wasn't exactly _foreplay_."

Her words gave him just the briefest flicker of reassurance and satisfaction, but not enough to completely banish what he felt. Jesse had given him plenty to still be angry at, calling him useless. Did she think he was useless, too? He wasn't sure he even wanted to know. Ben brought the flask back up to his lips again and continued to drink until the bottle was empty, then threw it forcefully across the room. Claire felt her insides tighten, but she kept the flinch from showing.

"It is if he likes it rough," Ben spat out.

"_Excuse_ me?" Was he kidding? Or just blindly reaching to win an argument Claire seemed to have no choice but to be pulled in to? Claire wasn't sure what she was being accused of anymore, but there were definitely fingers being pointed at her in his eyes.

Ben shook his head and pushed both hands through his hair before letting them fall down to his sides.

"Forget it. Just- I need a shower." The liquor would hit him soon enough, and he wanted to at least be washed before he passed out altogether, assuming he didn't kill himself falling over in the process of getting in or out. Not that it really mattered, anyway. Everything hurt all the time; what was one more injury added to the pile?

She just stared at him as he disappeared into the bathroom, and felt the shudder of the door slam through her whole body. Only then did she realize she had been holding her breath, and it let out with uncertainty, and a burn behind her eyes.

Claire sat on the edge of the bed and pushed her hands through her hair. _He'll cool off_, she told herself, shakily, and sniffed as she looked out the dark window. She thought of Jesse, equally confused and wondering where in God's name they all went from here. She cursed herself, as well. This was a whole new level of inexperience.

* * *

><p>Jesse's head throbbed. He groaned as he gave an attempt at opening his eyes in the pre-dawn light, but he quickly turned his head into his pillow. What the hell was wrong with him? It felt, almost, like he had a hangover, but that was impossible. Sure he'd had a lot last night, but he hadn't been hungover since he was a teenager, since he learned the tequila shot trick.<p>

He wanted desperately to just fall back into oblivion, but his bladder was screaming to get up or face a wet bed. Gritting his teeth, he crawled out of bed. It was a farther step to the floor than he remembered. In fact, the whole room looked off in some way, distorted. He didn't focus on that too much, hurrying to a toilet that had seemed to have grown in size. He pulled down his pants, started to pee, and then froze, looking at what was between his legs. And then he screamed. It wasn't a manly scream either; it sounded not all that different from a girl's.

The scream cut through what had once been a restless sleep, turned deep by exhaustion only a few hours ago. Claire jerked awake, instantly up against the headboard with instincts blaring. Who was screaming? It was close, but not recognized... _In their room_. She scrambled from the covers, thinking of nothing besides the source of the scream. She found it when she rounded the open door, then instantly gasped her _own_ half-scream and turned her back, eyes wide with confusion and alarm.

"Who are you?" she managed to blurt out, trying to calm down. So there wasn't someone being murdered in their hotel room, but that still left the question as to why a twelve year old boy was pissing in their bathroom.

"I-What?" Jesse managed to stop himself, tucking himself away. Then he looked at Claire. _Up_ at Claire. "I've shrunk! And my voice sounds like a fucking cartoon mouse!"

Before Claire could say anything, another scream sounded in the main room, followed by a very young voice:

"_WHAT THE HELL!_" Claire switched a very alarmed and confused look from over her shoulder to the form she'd left on the bed-the _much smaller than should be_ form that just shouted. Then back at the adolescent boy behind her...

Suddenly, she felt very dizzy.

"Okay...okayokayokay, _who are you boys_, and how did you get here?" Claire put her back against the wall across from the bathroom so she could see both of them. She was trying so hard to be rational, but that point seemed to have passed.

"What're you talking about?" Jesse said following her out and holding his aching head. "It's me, Jesse. I just-" He stopped short, spotting the small boy on the bed.

It didn't matter how old he was: Ben still made the same face when he was pissed. "WHAT DID YOU DO!" he shouted, his voice almost shrill in pitch.

Jesse jerked back, his hands over his ears but his eyes wide. The voice and face might be different, but there was no mistaking that tone. "Ben? Holy shit." If Ben looked like that... He spun around, finding the room mirror. He stared, his hands shifting onto his head. "Oh no. I've got the bowl cut."

Claire stared between the both of them, unable to form any word or thought besides the repetition of their names. Somehow her rear end found its way to the chair she'd backed herself up against, but she didn't remember actually sitting.

_This is a joke. They're joking with me..._ Right. Ben and Jesse, who in the previous night had hated each other, had gone out while she was sleeping and recruited two child actors to take their place. That made perfect sense. About as much sense as the apparent reality did; suddenly Claire looked down at herself with an urgency that frightened her a bit. All the familiar attributes were there, covered in an old Mountain Dew t-shirt and sleeper shorts.

Jesse stared at himself for only a moment more before his stomach roiled. He ran for the bathroom, falling to his knees to vomit hard into the toilet.

Just the sound of Jesse's vomiting was enough to trigger Ben's own gag reflex and he groaned, his hands moving up into his short, spikey hair.

"I'm gonna be sick-"

_Me too,_ thought Claire, who was moving through a daze and some instinct she didn't fully recognize, to hand the miniature Ben the plastic lined garbage can. She leaned on the side of the table with one hand slowly pushed through her hair.

What the hell did she do now?

* * *

><p>This was, by far, the worst day of his life.<p>

Growing up had sucked the _first_ time, but being 10-years-old and unable to drink, drive, or even put his feet on the floor while sitting in a chair? To Ben, it sucked hardcore.

Jesse had denied having anything to do with what happened, but that didn't change Ben's conviction that he was behind it. Who else had this kind of power, if not him? _He's just making himself small too so it looks like he's the victim, but I know the truth,_ he thought to himself with an angry scowl, spearing a broccoli floret on his plate and pushing it past his lips before wincing. Everything tasted weird, too. He _hated_ it. His eyes fell on Jesse's across the table and he glared at him.

"Have any bright ideas how to change us back, Szalinski?" he asked pointedly.

Claire was fighting a massive headache under the diner's florescent lights, brought on by the mind boggling events of the day. She leaned her temple in steepled fingertips and rubbed, her eyes closed for the moment, until the sounds of footsteps stopped at their table.

"Any dessert for you folks?" an aging waitress smiled down at the two boys, then met the eyes of the young woman sitting with them. "Or coffee for you, hon? You look beat."

"Coffee's good, thanks," Claire responded with a quiet sigh. Admittedly, she'd had to tune Ben and Jesse out for the last hour, just to work through various reasons why they were suddenly children. Their ongoing war was not helping the situation.

Jesse had enough self-control to wait until the waitress was gone before saying, "The sooner you get it out of your fucking head that this is _my_ fault, the sooner we can solve this thing, jackass!"

Ben aimed a kick at him from beneath the table. "Who else would've done it but you?" he snapped viciously. "I don't recall us goin' into a bar called Fountain of Friggin' Youth or anything."

"Could you both _please_ stop snarling at each other so we can figure this out?" Claire snipped in her irritation, but kept her voice low. Dropping her hand from her head, she looked at Ben first, at her side. "There's no good reason why Jess would do this to _both_ of you," then Jesse had her eyes, her brows arched for emphasis and a clear _do not interrupt me_ expression. "And you need to back off... And watch your language, both of you-we're drawing enough attention as it is."

Jesse scowled but kept his mouth shut. If Ben was going to keep acting like an idiot and blaming him, that was his problem. Considering what happened last night, it wasn't surprising. Ben was clearly on a blame-Jesse-for-everything kick.

Some inherent instinct inside Ben immediately shut up when Claire snapped at him, which only made him burn with humiliation and more anger. Ben shoved his food away despite the claw in his gut. He was _starving_, but he refused to eat at the same table as them right then. What he really wanted was another burger. Maybe even two. The kid's meal that Claire had ordered despite his epic protesting tasted like shit.

"This is crap," Ben muttered heatedly. "_Crap._"

"_Look_," Claire lowered a little so she wasn't talking to the top of a spiky head. "I am doing my best trying to fix this as fast as possible, but _until I can_," both of them had her eyes, pointedly. It had been her personality, acting the 'adult' among them during their fighting last night. Now, in their current state, it was basically impossible to avoid the instinct. "you two need to suck it up. Whatever did this obviously wants you both weak, so let's keep the target off our backs, okay?"

"I wouldn't say 'weak' was the goal," came a deep, smokey voice from the booth behind Claire's shoulder. She stiffened and felt Ben do the same next to her, but she didn't immediately look behind her. Claire's heart suddenly dropped into her stomach. This couldn't be good.

"I'm sorry?" she cleared her throat and twisted, finally chancing a look.

A sound not too unlike spurs and rattles tinkered out as a man shifted in the seat, turning to meet her gaze. It was only then that Claire noticed a very distinct smell, like sweet grass and sage. The man didn't appear much older than Jesse had been prior to that morning, but his eyes looked infinitely wise and there were faint threads of silver interwoven through his tawny red-brown hair. He smiled slightly, then repeated himself.

"I said it doesn't sound like 'weak' was the goal. Sounds t'me like their outsides just needed to reflect what their insides did. 'Course," his smile widened. "That's just my assumption."

Jesse was on his feet before he'd even thought it. This guy was talking around in circles just like the vampires and the water spirit and apparently every other jackhole creature that wanted to screw with his life, and he was sick of it.

"I'm done with this cryptic bullshit! Tell us what's going on!" he snapped, power behind his words. Ben had been halfway through drawing a breath to shout as well, but Jesse had cut him off. Claire was rigid, especially after she caught the eyes of the waitress, who set her coffee on the edge of the table then very quickly removed herself.

The man tilted his head slightly to the side at the outburst, then clucked his tongue at him. "Such a mouth on such a young one. You really should work on your manners."

The older man's response was just enough to make Ben feel a slight burn of mutual agitation on Jesse's behalf.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice hard. The man's brows lifted slightly as he smiled again.

"Depends on the day," he answered with a wry twist to his mouth. Claire felt exposed, and it conjured memories of the last time she was caught off guard, which only soured her mood. Her pale eyes stayed on the stranger's darker ones, silent for a while as she worked through the guesswork. Witch? Maybe. But Jesse's tone was one she recognized at this point, and it obviously had no effect on this man.

Which meant it wasn't likely he was a man at all. That's when it struck her.

"You were at the bar," she commented quietly, more to herself than him.

Jesse's head jerked to Claire, then back at the man. Creature. Anger and fear coursed through him as one; no one was supposed to be able to ignore his orders, and yet this guy didn't even flinch. And he was following them.

"Just turn it back," Jesse said, his voice low. "Change us back and we won't have to do anything to you."

The man's smile never wavered, even after Jesse's threat. He took a moment to look between the three of them in turn, then moved his eyes back to Claire again. For just a moment he looked sympathetic.

"Sorry you had to get caught up in this, darlin'," he told her. "But it had to be done, y'see. Once everyone learns to get along again, I'll be out of your hair." He stood, that same spurs-and-rattles sound shifting with his weight as he pulled out a wad of bills from some place in his front shirt pocket. His shoulder-length hair swayed when he took a few steps into the aisle.

"Wait," Claire was already standing, scooting over Ben to get to the outside of the booth. Cryptic sympathy or not, she couldn't just let the stranger walk off. She had a few ideas narrowed down, but once she reached him, that entrancing smell of singed herbs swallowed her sinuses. She was almost stopped in her tracks. A young couple slid between the gap of their bodies on the way to a booth and in that space of a few seconds, he was gone.

Ben had been following on her heels after him and barely bit back a curse. At least they got a pretty good look at whatever it was that had done this to them. And from the looks on both Claire's and Jesse's faces, it wasn't a good thing.

"Balls!" Ben spat, already heading for the door without even thinking about it. They needed to get back to the hotel and start figuring out what the hell that thing was.

* * *

><p>This would always, without a doubt, be Jesse's least favorite part about the hunting thing. Claire and Ben still sat diligently at their laptops (Ben had greeted his suggestion of a booster seat with the bird) and were researching away. Jesse had given up on it. They could do it better than him anyhow.<p>

"Is there some sort of Good Manners fairy?" he said from where he laid sprawled on his bed. "That guy had a real stick up his ass about manners."

"I wouldn't be surprised if there _was_," Claire replied tiredly. Her head still felt a bit heavy from the atmosphere around the Stranger in the bar and diner. "Or at least something that decided it's mission in life was along those lines."

"Or maybe it just likes to fuck with people's lives," Ben added bitterly. "Like every other damn creature out there in the world." He paused a beat, his brows furrowing in thought, then suddenly got up from his computer and went to his duffel bag.

"Except most of those don't tell us we have to get along," Jesse said with scowl. "Most of them fuck with our lives in more direct ways."

"So he's a subtle life-fucker," Ben muttered, digging through the bag before he managed to pull out a moleskin journal with several leaves of assorted papers sticking out. He flipped about two-thirds of the way through it and then started reading it aloud:

"With the power to make objects materialize out of thin air, the Trickster accomplishes its destructive feats via unusual and often humorous means, its intent to humble the self-important. They are demigod-like immortal creatures that thrive on creating mischief and mayhem."

Jesse sat up sharply. "Demigod? Think that could be why I couldn't get him to do anything?" Claire looked between the two of them and then back down at her screen, sighing while she rubbed at her forehead.

"Welcome to the puppet show..." her whisper was more a thought put to breath than anything else. The sinking, helpless feeling was back in the pit of her stomach.

Jesse looked her way, frowning. "What? Is that bad? How do we take it down?"

"We don't," Ben said flatly. "At least not unless he kills someone. The only way you can kill a Trickster is with a stake dipped in a dead victim's blood. We'd have no way of knowing unless the deaths were really obvious."

"Or right in front of us," Claire added, a little haunted.

Pushing off the bed, Jesse came up to her, concern etched on his young face. "You alright?" She continued to stare at the blue screen in front of her face for a minute, but shot the mini-Jesse a short, sleepy look as she closed the thing.

"It's just not what I had in mind for this week-" of course, she knew that statement went for all of them. "They're _really_ unpredictable, and are better liars than demons." And Claire wore a worried look that stretched back beyond this particular experience.

Ben looked between them, his face pulled in a very obvious frown. Any of the prior methods he would have used to console Claire were worthless now, and he felt a twist in his chest as a result. _God, this sucks,_ he thought bitterly.

"At least there isn't anything else going on," he said, hating how much higher-pitched his voice sounded. He sighed in frustration. At least the bastard had fixed his ribs in the process. That much he was thankful for. What he really wanted to do right then was go for a run, but even with the full knowledge of self-defense and gun handling experience, his 10-year-old body would be no matched to a pedophile or some other creep.

"Does this place have a gym?" He went over to the roll-top desk near the kitchen. Maybe they would have a treadmill or something. He just needed some time alone to think.

"Yeah, but there's an age limit if you're there alone," Jesse said with a small smirk. "Pretty sure you don't meet it."

Ben glared at him, working his jaw silently to keep from swearing. Who knew if the Trickster was there with them right now, watching everything they did or said. With a look of extreme sullenness, Ben turned his eyes to the floor and muttered aloud:

"Claire, can we please go down to the gym?"

Jesse couldn't help if it he tried. He laughed, but Claire shot him her clearest look of death. After a beat, she breathed in deep and started off the bed, muttering an equally quiet '_Let's go_.'

Ben went back to his bag again with every intention of grabbing a lighter t-shirt and a pair of sweats. He realized midstep that all the clothes in his bag would be his own clothes. His expression soured further as he turned toward the door and stomped out through it once it was open.

* * *

><p>Two handfuls of Tylenol in one day was enough, but it didn't seem to do a lick of good against the mounting headache that'd taken residence behind Claire's eyes. It started as an irritation in the morning, but by nine that night, even the light from the TV was a loud, reverberating roar. Ben and Jesse's constant snide remarks and shouted retorts hadn't helped. No, she couldn't blame them for being upset, frustrated, and angry-but there was a reason why she'd retreated into herself by early evening, and barely said a word throughout the rest of the night, until she finally disappeared into the bathroom to try and burn the migraine away with a shower.<p>

Behind a _locked_ door, she tried to disappear into the steam, and relieve the sudden, surprisingly crippling weight of responsibility for the two men-in-boys-bodies on the other side of the door. It was instinct, pure and simple, but one she had no idea how to handle in this obviously fucked up situation, to the point where she just wanted to sleep and try again in the morning. She passed out half passed ten, with earplugs in her ears, her back turned away from the glow of the TV. There she stayed, unmoving, even as daylight filtered through the cracks in the privacy curtains, and the sound of morning thunder acted as a subtle wake-up call.

Ben woke up from his place in the club chair with a terrible crick in his neck. He'd refused to share a bed with Jesse, and sleeping beside Claire in his current state was bordering on weird, so he hadn't been left with that many options. Yet even as he started to become slowly more aware, Ben knew something was wrong. For one thing, he didn't hear Claire moving around. He'd become familiar with the fact that she was an early riser, for all that it had been mildly annoying the first week. She and Jesse both would usually nip out after about ten minutes of dressing and getting ready for their training day. It was like hitting a snooze button for him; usually he'd be up within the half hour. Without the sounds, though, his body woke on its own.

Disappointment registered when he looked down at himself and found that he was still half-sized. Ben humphed to himself, pushing out of the chair.

"Claire, you awake?" he said in a sleep-rusty voice.

"No, she's still out of it," Jesse said, tugging on an overly-large t-shirt. He'd already decided they had to go grab some kid-sized clothes when they left the hotel. None of his powers were working, though not for lack of trying. His pants were belted above his belly button and he still had to roll up the cuffs. "I think it's the ear plugs."

Ben frowned and padded over to where she was curled up on on her side of the bed, her face looking smooth and serene as she slept. Even knowing he couldn't do anything without creeping both of them out, he still found her beautiful to look at. Sighing quietly, Ben put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a little shake.

"Rise and shine," he called out, gingerly plucking an ear plug out of her ear. Nothing happened. Ben's expression pinched. "Claire? Wake up."

Jesse could hear the rising tension in Ben's voice and it made him clench, too. He headed over, his throat feeling thick. "She's breathing, right?"

"Yeah," Ben answered, his fingers going to her throat to find her pulse. It was steady and slow, reflecting her current state. Ben's panic increased.

"Claire, c'mon, this isn't funny," he said, trying to put authority into his prepubescent voice.

Jesse leaned over; his voice of authority was a good deal better than most. "Wake up, Claire," he said. Not a movement. "C'mon, wake up!"

She remained completely unaffected by both their attempts, and Ben's panic rose to critical mass. "How many Tylenol did she take?" he asked, already heading toward the bathroom at a fast trot.

Jesse reached over to check her pulse as well. Then he ran for his phone, dialing 0-0-0. The call instantly dropped. He tried again, and the same thing. "Ben, the phone's not working!" he called, his voice squeaking.

There was no way to know how many Tylenol she took, given the fact that they weren't exactly counting the pills on the side of the bottle, but it was still mostly full and that was enough to at least cancel out the possibility of an OD. Nevertheless, the fear made it hard for Ben to swallow, and Jesse's frightened shout did nothing to ease it.

"We'll go down to the lobby and try there," Ben said swiftly, rapidly moving out of the bathroom to grab up one of the cardkeys resting on the table. His eyes lingered on Claire for a moment, something black and terrifying welling up in his chest. They'd only just managed to save her before. What would they do if she was gone forever and they were stuck like this?

"C'mon!" he said hastily.

Jesse didn't hesitate, not knowing what else to do. He stepped through the door after Ben, and stopped short. They weren't in the hall. Instead they were in the hotel gym, the mats spread out on the floor. And Jesse standing there with Claire approaching his back. Or at least _a_ Jesse. The younger, real Jesse looked down at himself, then spun around for the door. Only it was gone, replaced by the gym wall.

"What the fuck?"

Ben stared in astonishment, completely confused. Especially when Claire didn't turn at the sound of Jesse's sudden explicative. She 'corrected' him regularly when he made the same mistakes, and he had a few surface bruises to prove it.

"You sure you're ready?" the oblivious version of Claire asked the grown version of Jesse, but didn't wait for his answer. A snap of action clamped her fingertips over his shoulder while one leg took out the back of his knee. Ben winced slightly as Jesse hit the floor, hard, but he didn't stay down long, rolling to his feet.

"Hey, I didn't look half bad," little Jesse said, sounding pleased.

Then Claire attacked for real, barely a moment allowed for Jesse to regain his footing before she was on him again. He made the mistake of grabbing at her wrists, which she turned on him when they both went to the mat, one hand on his throat, her thighs pinned his flat.

"This isn't a jo-"

"Shit, woman, who knew you liked it so rough?" grown Jesse said with a grin, grinding his hips up into Claire's.

Ben's fists clenched at his sides and his entire body tensed. He hadn't seen this. He'd seen something similar, in the park while he'd been sitting in the car piggybacking on some wifi and looking for a job to go to near the end of the week, but this... this was worse. He started moving forward, ready to shove Claire off of him, but stopped short when she swung a fist across Jesse's jaw. She was shocked and slightly mortified, both at him _and_ her violent reaction, but bit the apology back and rolled over the discretion fast.

"_Not a joke_," Claire repeated, and pushed off him.

Jesse grabbed his jaw in empathy as grown Jesse groaned, shaking his head.

"I was just trying to lighten the mood," Jesse whined at Ben. "That really fucking hurt."

"Served you right," Ben said, his voice low and quiet as the tension finally eased out of him and the confusion returned. What the hell was going on? Anxiously he pinched himself, then winced. Nope, not dreaming. Just to be doubly sure, he reached over and pinched the twelve-year-old standing next to him.

"Ow!" Jesse swatted away his hand before punching him hard in the shoulder. "What was that for?"

The words were echoed by grown Jesse as he pushed to his feet.

"It's not a dream."

"The big picture..." Claire answered the grown Jesse in the distance, seemingly quite comfortable with how little sense she made. Truth was, she felt bad about it, but couldn't reflect on that fact. She forced a nonchalant smile. "C'mon, see if you can get me back-if you can." Moving on-that was her plan.

Ben turned his eyes back to Claire again, feeling a flicker of relief, then guilt. He moved forward, trying to reach out for her and get her attention, but his hand went straight through her. The confusion was back on his face.

"The hell..." Claire continued to be oblivious as she circled Jesse, and they went at it again. Always shortly with the same result-Jesse on the floor. Ben's frown lengthened and his eyes moved to the door on the other side of the room.

"C'mon, we gotta move," Ben said, turning to look back at where the younger version of Jesse still stood.

"Why?" Jesse said, his eyes on himself even as he followed Ben. "We're in a fucked up reality within a fucked up reality and you wanna go looking for the next one?"

"There's gotta be a way out," Ben said with conviction. "I'm not just gonna stand here and do nothing. Claire's still unconscious. We have to get out of here." His hand twisted on the doorknob and he opened it, pushing through the other side quickly.

Behind the door was a gas station. Ben recognized this place too. It was the gas station the day he'd seen Claire pinning Jesse against the tree. He'd gone in to pay for the gas and pick up a few things. On cue, his older self stepped forward and through them, stopping suddenly at seeing what was taking place in the car. There were Claire and Jesse, sitting close and talking. He couldn't hear them, but Claire suddenly rested her head on his shoulder.

"Why the fuck are we here of all places?" Jesse said, looking over at Ben, then at grown Ben. The set of his jaw and tension in his eyes spoke volumes. Jesse looked back to himself and Claire. "Is this why you lost your shit at the bar? She was just being friendly, mate. We _are_ friends, you know."

"Oh yeah?" the younger Ben said, turning to look at him sharply. The older Ben turned back into the gas station, apparently with one more item in mind to purchase and still completely oblivious to them.

"Like how you and I are just friends, but you watched two hookers work me over after I watched you?" The memory hit him like a fist to the gut, but he ignored it. "Just friends, huh?"

Jesse's eyebrows disappeared up into his bangs, his mouth hanging slightly open. He made a couple attempts at saying something before shaking his head. "C'mon, that was just, y'know, live action porn. It didn't mean... It was just a good time, alright?" He turned around. "C'mon, maybe the station door will take us some place else."

Ben frowned but didn't say anything, simply pushing through the door like he said. Unfortunately, all it did was take them further into the gas station, where he saw an older version of himself staring at a rack of candy but not really looking at it. A woman came up to his side, smiling at him until she saw his face.

"You okay, sweetie?" she said, her voice warm and concerned. Ben didn't even look at her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just... so many options." he said weakly. The woman laughed lightly before moving past him. She paused at the end of the aisle and to look at him again, but the younger Ben wasn't paying attention. He was trying to find another door. There was one on the far end of the chips aisle that lead to a bathroom, he remembered that much. He just hoped that one would work.

Jesse hesitated, looking at the older Ben's face. His heart sank. The hurt pulling at the corners of his mouth, the hardness in his eyes. At least in some way, that was Jesse's fault.

Swallowing hard, he hurried after Ben, and back into their hotel room. The morning light even looked the same, only a grown Ben lay sleeping with Claire. And a grown Jesse sat on the edge of his bed, staring at them.

"We don't need to see this. C'mon," Jesse said, grabbing Ben's arm, but Ben refused to budge. He was too focused on the look on the older Jesse's face. He knew that look. He hadn't seen it personally on the other man's, but Ben remembered the sensation of those muscles on his own face. His eyes turned to the twelve-year-old, surprise warring with confusion in his eyes.

"Is this Wisconsin?" he asked in a small voice made smaller by the timbre.

"It doesn't matter," Jesse snapped, but it was too late. The older Jesse was on his feet, padding over to dresser. He pulled down his duffel bag and very gently slid open a drawer, silently packing.

"What are you doing?" Ben asked, his voice suddenly louder and higher, looking between the two of them with just a flicker of panic. It was a stupid question, because Ben knew. He was leaving. Ben's eyes fell back on the younger version of his friend, wide and disbelieving.

"You were just gonna go? After everything that happened?"

"You were fine without me before," Jesse said, his face scrunched. "With you getting together, I thought I'd just get in the way." And then it hit him like a punch. That's what this whole thing was about, wasn't it? "And I did. I am in the way."

He stared at the sleeping Ben and Claire as his older self shoulder his bag and turned around to do the same.

"You're not in the way," Ben said quickly. "Christ, Jess, you're- you saved us. _Both_ of us. If you hadn't been there, we'd be dead." His throat went tight. "We need you."

Jesse shrugged, letting the numbness spread through him. "That's why I stayed. I wanted to make sure you'd stay safe. But it's my fault we're here." He scowled as his older self tossed his duffel to the side and crawled back into bed. "If I'd gone, you'd be safe in bed with Claire right now, and she'd be fine."

Ben took a few halting steps toward the younger Jesse, barely paying attention as the older one shifted on his side to face the door and tucked a pillow into his frame. Ben felt something inside him twist hard.

"That's not true," he said, shaking his head hard. "You didn't do anything. I started it acting like a jealous dick." He swallowed. "You guys were gettin' on and I... I felt like you were leaving me behind, the both of you. Hell, how can I compete with you? You're like a god." The question was at the tip of his tongue, but Ben bit it back. He wasn't sure he wanted to know for sure.

_Try the other direction._ Jesse bit his tongue. "I was playing into it. It's my fault, too. I irritated Claire, I can tell. So I'll just stop doing that stuff. I'll lay off." All he wanted to do right now was leave this room. "C'mon, let's try the bathroom door."

_It's not just you I'm jealous of,_ Ben thought, feeling that same twist in his chest again. He watched Jesse head off toward the bathroom and disappear through the door, taking a breath to speak but biting it back. With one last look at the older Jesse's curled up form he headed after his younger self.

Loud voices and noise hit him the moment he was through it. They were back in the bar again, mere inches away from where Claire sat at the booth alone. A quick look off to the side found them at the bar in the beginning of their fight, but Claire hadn't noticed yet. Ben watched the concern blossoming on her face as she looked down at her watch and then out in the direction of the door.

The tension between the three of them had been growing exponentially, especially in the last hour, and Claire was already nearing the end of her rope. There were things she felt that conflicted with everything she'd known as proper and decent through her childhood-things that flew in the face of fears that stemmed from her years on the road and choices she'd made along the way. Confusion and guilt rode alongside happiness and desire in her eyes, as they searched the bar door when it opened and closed.

"Did I hear you order a whiskey?" An extremely tall man with deep brown eyes and a hopeful grin paused in front of the booth, looking down at Claire. She glanced at him briefly.

"Someone already got it; thanks." She gave him a small smile, but her eyes clearly said _move along_.

"Looks like you could use a double anyway, darlin'," he said with a slow smile. "Don't worry, I'm not here to cut in. Just here to remind you there's good men out there in the world."

There was the faintest sound, but it still cut through the noise of the bar with such close proximity: the sound of spurs and rattles. The man turned, heading in the direction of the bar, his eyes briefly landing on where Ben and Jesse stood. He connected eyes with the two of them in a very direct way, his brows lifting as he walked between them.

Jesse could only stare, frozen with uncertainty. "What should we do?" he hissed at Ben. Ben squared his jaw, meeting Jesse's gaze with a much more confident one.

"Well, he can see us," he said. "So obviously he can hear us, too." He turned quickly and followed after him, then grabbed for his shirt-tails. This time, his grip was solid.

"Okay, we get it," Ben said sharply. "We fucked up. We're sorry."

The Trickster turned to look at him, brows arched over his high forehead. He smiled slightly in that same way he did at the diner.

"So would you change things if you did 'em again?" he asked, looking over Ben's head at Jesse.

Jesse swallowed, unable to meet the creature's eyes for long. "Yes," he said quietly.

"Sorry," The Trickster said with a lengthening grin. "It's a bit loud in here. Say that again?"

Ben scowled. "He said yes, okay? We both would. Just change us back."

The words were barely out of his mouth before his vision suddenly blurred then refocused. He was staring at Jesse across from him at the bar, his face frozen in that same agitated look just before Ben had punched him. Ben blinked, his hand coming up to touch the other man's face.

Jesse flinched on instinct. Then his expression softened, though his eyes were overly wide. "Everything back to normal?" he asked. Ben at least looked fully grown, and Jesse was back to being the shorter one.

"Yeah, I guess so," Ben answered, feeling a wave of relief at the lower timbre of his voice. He pulled his hand back hastily, then suddenly whipped his around over his shoulder. The Trickster who had been behind him when he'd first been shoved wasn't there. He spotted him a few feet away, holding his beer and watching them.

"There he is," he said sharply, already moving in the Trickster's direction.

Jesse grabbed his arm. That thing had altered what they were, jumped them back and forth through time at will, and suppressed Jesse's ability with just a thought. "Leave him alone," he said, his voice low. "You should go to Claire. She's looking for you."

Ben shook his head, turning to look in the direction of the retreating Trickster. He was gone. Ben deflated a little, then looked back at Jesse again.

"I'm not goin' anywhere without you."

Jesse's stomach gave a warm little flip, and he couldn't hold back his smile if he tried. "Alright. But you just want me along to explain the whole thing to her."

Ben gave a laugh, then winced, then realized that there had been no reason _to_ wince: his ribs didn't hurt anymore. Ben flashed him a grin and threw an arm around his shoulder, yanking him along.

"Let's just keep all that between us, yeah? No reason she needs to know."

* * *

><p>There was just one problem with not telling Claire what had happened: there was <em>so much<em> to not tell. The mystery Trickster had healed his ribs and given him and Jesse a surprising amount of insight on their personal feelings about the past few days in each other's company. Ben felt a deep conflicting mass settle in his gut as Jesse disappeared into the bathroom to shower for the night, no doubt to give him and Claire a few minutes alone.

All he could think about was Jesse's face, staring at their sleeping forms in the hotel in Wisconsin. The jealousy and loneliness that had haunted him. It made him ache in empathy. He watched as Claire brushed her hair, sitting on the edge of their bed. _Their_ bed and Jesse's bed. There wasn't a couch in the room. This was going to be very uncomfortable.

"I think I'm gonna call the front desk and ask 'em to bring up a cot," he said quietly.

After tossing her brush into her bag by the TV, Claire's fingers were busy weaving her hair into a loose braid over her shoulder. Her eyes had been sleepy and worn from the day-a light one, by their standards, but still a bit on the confusing side. It'd started with tension and then suddenly switched, like a toggle'd been thrown at the dive bar. The absence of tension was good, sure, but the polar shift had been very jarring. Now, with the words spoken over her shoulder, a strange portion of it came back.

She looked at him over her hair, first, then squared her shoulders in Ben's direction. She met his eyes with a slightly guarded puzzlement. Ben felt a completely different twist, this time in his chest.

"I feel bad," he said slowly. "I mean, I-... how would you feel if you had to share a room with two people and they were sleepin' next to each other?"

Claire suddenly wondered if she missed some kind of important memo, and the way her face tightened showed it. Her lips parted, a breath taken in for words, but she stopped herself, mulling his latest as well as several other pieces of conversation over the last week over in her head. All she could get out was: "..._okay_." Before the tight feeling in her stomach became too sharp to ignore.

"I guess that makes sense," she added, quiet and obviously uncertain. What in the world was going on? Claire prided herself on being _very_ observant, but there were clearly pieces of the puzzle she was missing. And like every good Catholic, she turned the questioning inward. _What did I miss? What did I do?_ Questions like this scraped at her mind, but she kept them quiet-but she turned away from him to busy herself with something else-God only knew _what_.

Ben felt the air shift between them, felt the twist in his chest turn into a full stab, and quickly slid across the space of the bed so he could put his hands on her shoulders and press a kiss to the slope where her neck and shoulder met. In spite of herself, she felt the muscle beneath that kiss tie itself in a knot.

"Doesn't change how I feel," he murmured.

_And how is that?_ She felt the question well behind her lips almost immediately, but bit it down. Claire closed her eyes; caught between the insistent need to figure out what had just happened, and the desire to just numb up and let it go. In all honesty, she didn't want to do either, but old habits die hard.

She nodded faintly and forced herself to inhale normally, then met his eyes. "I get it," she kept her voice soft, and a good part of it was genuine. His reasoning _did_ make sense, and she didn't like the idea of Jesse being singled out-the timing just...just didn't make a lick of sense to her, and it didn't play well with her emotions. So she beat them down, and smiled at him. "But I'm on the cot-your ribs need the bed."

"Oh, no," he said quickly, putting a decent amount of lightness into his voice as his fingers slid down her arms and the to her sides. "No way you're playing Ms. Martyr. Besides, it'll keep me from movin' around all up and down the bed like I normally do if I sleep in a cot. It'll just be for one night. We'll get another room tomorrow."

"There's no Ms. Martyr," she turned in his feather-light hold, her chin lifted a little more than was needed, if anything, to keep her throat from feeling so tight. "Those cots are murder on _any_ injury." And if it came down to it, she could always share a bed with Jesse-but Claire didn't say that. Would kind of defeat the whole argument he presented.

A part of her wanted to bring it up, though. She hated how she felt in that moment, forcing a calm on her face in front of _him_.

"I can handle it," he said firmly. Then, without any real explanation, he leaned in and kissed her insistently, one hand pushing up into her silken hair. It knocked her off that carefully replaced guard, if only for a moment or two, but that was enough. Her eyes closed on instinct, but the breath she pulled in felt hot in her lungs and flipped in her stomach.

She was still lost, but her hands somehow found their way to his sides-over-gentle, as she'd learned to be since the balcony in Wisconsin. His soft lips and the hint of scratchy stubble pushed down her anxiety, and though it sprang back when he pulled away, it didn't seem quite as sharp. It _was_ still there, though.

Ben pressed his forehead lightly into hers and breathed deep. He'd wanted to kiss her since that first moment after waking up in his younger body. Every part of him _wanted_ her, knowing that it wouldn't hurt anymore even if he'd played at taking her in the lighter ways like the one the hooker in Madison had. He wanted her _so bad._

But no. He'd wait. Two more weeks would give him a safe enough window without drawing out her suspicions. In the meantime he'd work in the background and let her keep training Jesse. He needed to know that he and Claire not only needed him but wanted him around. Ben knew deep down that his silence would be word enough, but Claire's actions would further cement it.

Even so, when that faint jasmine scent hit him, Ben felt his groin tighten.

"Okay, how's this," he offered. "Rock-paper-scissors?" Claire's nose wrinkled, brushing against his in the process. Then she shook her head faintly, swallowing the small knot of emotion in her throat in order to put on her smile again.

"You're taking the bed." He was being insistent. So was she.

"Hey, I'm reachin' for a compromise," Ben replied, putting a bit of a pout into his voice for show. Claire's smirk was a little more purposeful than she normally liked it, but she made it melt into a soft smile.

"Its just for one night," she repeated, proud of herself for fighting that small streak of abandonment back into submission.

He could feel the guilt creeping into him. He couldn't handle the idea of making her take the cot when he didn't feel like shit anymore. Not after the week he and Jesse had put her through. His expression shifted into something unreadable for a moment and he kissed her again, much more deeply this time-so much so, the back of her thighs bumped against the arm chair right behind her. Once again, she felt a lot of the tension ease away from her.

If only it would go on, like she wanted it to... but the sound of running water in the bathroom stopped, and her thoughts shot right back to the issue at hand. Jesse feeling like a third wheel.

Claire rolled her lips and breathed in deep, trying to cleanse the shaky feeling in her stomach. "Are we cooling _everything_, for his sake?" The question was quiet, but it carried a punch to her own gut. "I mean-I understand, I just..." She didn't know exactly what to say.

"We could tone down the PDA," he answered against her mouth. They had two minutes, maybe three tops, before Jesse came out. "But we don't gotta stop, no. I don't wanna stop." His lips quirked. "Might be a little fun, sneaking kisses and holding your hand under the table." The smile faded. "But if you sleep in that cot tonight, I'll make him lift you out of it and put you in the bed. You know he would, too." In spite of herself, Claire poorly suppressed a short laugh.

"I think he might be too gunshy to try..." After the brutal week she'd put Jesse through, anyway. She paused for another breath, easing up a bit. She felt bad about being selfish about Jesse's feelings, and for now, it overshadowed the bitter taste the start of this conversation put in her mouth. "You do know he'll turn the dial up on the flirting, right?" That much was obvious-what wasn't so obvious was that she really didn't mind. Not after she'd gotten a chance to get used to Jesse.

After the whole thing with the Trickster, Ben wasn't so sure anymore. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't, but he'd be a lot more careful about Ben seeing it. The least he could do was return the favor.

"We'll let him decide when he gets out here, then, who gets the bed," Ben said, ignoring the comment about Jesse's flirting. "Unbiased third party. Deal?"

Claire shook her head, and stayed exactly where she was on the subject. He'd do the exact same thing for her, if she was the one with busted bones. "I. Am taking. The cot. Discussion over." Her smile came a little easier, and she wetly kissed the tip of his nose. He scrunched his face up in a mimic of the first time he'd done it to her, then gave her a light, little shove. The guilt would eat at him, but he'd find another way to make it up to her somehow.

"So bossy," he muttered, reaching for the phone to call the front desk.


	11. Deleted Scene: Red on Black

Having their own resident magician certainly came with its advantages, but Claire had made her discomfort with the notion of just getting everything out of thin air very clear. Her issue wasn't that it didn't seem natural (which it didn't), or the implied moral dilemma that came with getting everything from nothing. Claire wasn't thrilled with the uncertainty that it provided. It's not that she didn't trust Jesse's powers-she just didn't trust their stability. Call it an instinctive hunch.

Which is why, when she started his crash coarse in Hunting 101 (as he put it) three days ago, she strictly forbade him from using his nifty tricks in order to advance. He had to learn the hard way, which-by the last three days of painful progress had shown-Jesse wasn't used to, but at least the knowledge would stay with him forever. Claire was confident, and more comfortable with that.

"Okay, one more time..." she warned while tightening her pony tail. The hotel gym was tiny, but deserted, and the vinyl mats on the floor and walls did well for keeping Jesse from bruising to bad. "Strength doesn't matter if you grab in the right place," a lesson she'd shown him several times over as she taught him how to defend himself from the speedy attacks common with most supernatural creatures. He had yet to come out on top.

"Yeah, yeah, you just like making me breathless and sweaty," he said, definitely both by that point. Apparently a nest of vampires was cake compared to the compact blond. He was having more fun than he would ever admit to, though. Claire was quick and fought back against his verbal jabs as easily as his physical ones. She'd been a bit harder when they got started. After being pinned a few times, he'd harmlessly grinded up against her and gotten a right hook for his efforts.

He kept his flirting to talking after that, mostly, and she seemed to have warmed up, or at least gotten used to it.

He watched her, gauging when the attack would come. She swayed a little on her feet, and casually stepped around him in the likes of one very common and possible assault: one from behind. Claire imagined her reality slowed, her motions smooth and calculated, as if through water-an invisible tether connected their eyes as he tracked her over his shoulder. When the action came, it was quick as a snake; her hand slammed the back of his shoulder while her leg hooked around his with intent of putting him flat on his face, her knee lodged in the small of his back, unless he could counter like instructed.

Jesse tried to react quick, grabbing at her hand, but he was too slow. All he managed to do was twist on his way down so he landed on his side, not that that was an improvement. He didn't stop though, grabbing for her knee to try to bring her down. She caught the wrist that grabbed for her knee and twisted it sharply behind his back-her other hand caught the back of his hair and pressed his cheek to the mat.

"Good try," she breathed through a slight huff, a show of exertion that came with needing to think on the fly. She was also smiling. "Almost got me."

"Yeah, right," he said, his voice a bit muffled. "Sure you were right worried my flailing as I fell might poke your eye out."

Claire chortled lightly and gave the back of his head a friendly pat. "Exactly, I'm sure they're deadly weapons." There was no lie in her words, however sweetly sarcastic they may've been. That tiny piece of _something_ deep inside Claire that was always a little nervous around Jesse knew he had the potential to be deadly when he put those mind-powers to it. It had occurred to her more than once that he was humoring her in all this, but she hoped not. If he was, he was doing a fantastic job faking.

"Let's try it again," she said, helping him up. He had the right move down, just had to perfect the timing.

His shoulders sagged a bit as he settled on his feet. He wasn't used to things being difficult for him to do, but then Claire had him on a short chain. The human part of him was pretty useless.

"Alright," he said, bouncing on his toes. "Hit me." Claire was still as he hopped like a loose ring fighter, only tipping her head deeply toward one shoulder, like she was wont to do. Humoring her or not, she had to admit, she liked his enthusiasm. Plus, he was definitely learning.

The attack came quick as the first, but on the opposite side; Claire's movements sharp and choreographed, just as they had before.

Jesse was moving almost before she was, and his hand snatched hers easily. He gave a "Ha!" of elation - and completely forgot to follow through. Claire took quick advantage, and he hit the mat so hard it knocked the air out of his lungs. Claire had her hand on his throat, pressing firm, but not threateningly; one knee buried, careful enough not to injure, but definitely with intent, under his diaphragm. She grinned a little wildly at him.

"Forget something?" Her fingers gave his throat a little squeeze to remind him before she curled back up to her feet.

Feeling heady and irritated, Jesse pushed himself to his feet, giving his body a loose shake though his jaw stayed clenched. "You always pull away just when you got me on my back. Tease," he said with a forced smile. His mind was already on the game, testing the air. She raised both brows at him, but said nothing.

This time he could feel the attack coming. He got her arm and twisted to throw her momentum to the side, then his knee jabbed up behind hers to knock her feet from under her. He followed her down to pin her. The move wasn't exactly graceful, but he was on top for once, and he beamed.

Being dropped pushed a hard breath out of Claire when she landed, but she stilled, smiling a little when she noticed Jesse's million dollar grin.

"Very good," she coughed out with the last of her slightly jarred breath, with one eyebrow lifted. Ignored was the physical pang she felt twist in her abs, thanks to that smile. Instead, she concentrated on the weight he put into holding her forearms down, which pressed them into the mat more than the rest of his body on her thighs. Obviously he was keeping himself on a leash-good in some ways, but a bit counterproductive to what she was trying to teach him. "But did you think this through?"

Jesse's brows knit. He thought back over his movements. "Wasn't the cleanest move, no, but I got you pinned. That's the important part, right?" Claire's lips tugged into one cheek in a cross between her playful grin and studious smirk. Then bucked her knees beneath him to throw off his center of balance. A second later, she was on top him, her forearm pressed under his chin, and one knee lodged as a reminder between his legs.

"Only if I stay pinned." In spite of herself, a ribbon of humor softened her words. The triumphant grin didn't help, either.

Color rushed to Jesse's face from anger, embarrassment, and maybe just a little from the placement of her leg. He wriggled just a little under her, his own leg coming to rest over hers. "Y'know, I'm kind of okay with this," he said, quirking an eyebrow. He held back on grinding again, though; he'd learned his lesson there at least.

Claire scoffed, but didn't move just yet. "You're not used to _taking anything seriously_," she breathed, and put a _tiny_ bit more pressure put behind the bone of her knee to emphasize certain words. "Are you."

Jesse hissed in a breath through his teeth, his pulse fluttering at his neck. For a tiny blond, Claire could be pretty badass. It was unbelievably hot.

"Well, I'm not exactly in danger here, am I?" he said, trying to keep the languid tone of his voice. "If you were a real bad guy, I could've made it so you never got loose."

A good part of Claire believed him on that one, if only because of what she'd seen him do through what looked like pure instinct. It was the same part that was never quite at ease around Jesse-something deep she couldn't name. But at the same time, the 'mentor' part of her brain switched on in curiosity. Her head dipped to the side, dropping slightly tangled lengths of pale hair over her shoulder and onto his.

"Alright," she said finally, rising to her feet and helping him up with her. She turned for the worn duffel bag at the door of the hotel gym and crouched by it, searching for something. "Let's see what you can do against a _real bad guy_..." There was a little effort to keep a small knot of nerves suppressed in her gut that tightened her voice.

"If you think you're up for it," she looked over her shoulder at him, a brow raised.

Pinpricks crawled up his spine and his eyes flickered uncertainly towards the duffel bag, but there was only one answer to a challenge like that. "I'm up for anything you can throw at me."

Claire didn't expect anything else. She squeezed her lips together and nodded once, then turned back to the bag. When she stood back up and faced Jesse, one hand held a long, skinny cloth; a blindfold. The other held an open butterfly knife. She held them out at her hips, spokes model style.

"Pick one."

She was being awfully cagey. He looked between the two, trying to read her intent, but the choice was pretty obvious. "Usually I'd go for the blindfold, but in this particular scenario, I'll take the knife," he said, reaching for it. Claire's smile reflected a cold concentration in her eyes as she handed the weapon over, then ran the strip of cloth through her other hand, and snapped it tight. Just making sure.

"Nine times out of ten, whatever you're fighting isn't out for a straight kill," she started, taking her place in front of him. The long piece of cotton hung limp at her side. "They'll want you for other reasons-God only knows what, in some cases." Claire rolled her shoulders, a crack of old tension popped in the space between the blades. Then she wiggled her fingertips at him in beckoning, for the first time, inviting Jesse to lead the attack. "So come at me like I've got the worst possible intentions... and that's not always Death."

She had a point there, and it settled like a lead weight in his stomach. There was still one problem, though. "I don't want to hurt you. I mean, I don't know much, but I know how to hold a knife. I could accidentally slice you."

She wanted to smile at him; she wanted to assure that she knew he didn't want to hurt her, but the risk involved was more real than their rough wrestling would ever be. She wanted him prepared, in case something ever rendered his magical crutches useless. So Claire kept her eyes hard and didn't answer his concern. If she had to push him to defend himself, she would. Claire sprung at him with a sharp elbow set toward his ribs, careful to avoid the blade.

Jesse jerked away though her elbow still caught his side. He scuttled back with a hiss, knife out but not swinging. He knew Claire was trying to creep him out with how serious she was being, trying to get him to act like this was real. It was also kind of working, though he stuck on the defensive for now, trying to keep far enough away that he could think this through.

Claire circled him slow, noting the posture change, the rigidity set in his solid shoulders. His eyes sharpened, too, which she remembered as being more than a little unnerving. _They'll come faster than this_ she tried to convey without words, meeting his gaze in one hard line of eye contact before the next assault came. The cloth stretched between both her fists, crossed around the wrist that held her knife and tightened, then spun on a toe and attempted to bring his hand with her around his back. He twisted with her, though, jerking out of the bind and away from her as quick as he could

There was no smiling or exchanged banter as it went on; Jesse didn't have the breath for it. He spent most of his time running from her, looking for a weakness that never surfaced. Eventually he tossed aside the knife, realizing it was keeping him from attacking. Her intensity doubled after that. He engaged her a couple times, getting a hand on her, thinking he might get her that time. But she always managed to turn it right around and he'd be scrambling to get away.

Eventually she ducked under him when his footing landed awkward on the edge of the mat; a quick fury of limbs and the snap of fabric ended the spar-both Jesse's wrists tangled in a triple loop of blindfold, with the middle wrapped around his throat. Claire held him tight from behind, her final blow-her foot to the back of one knee-put him down in a kneel directly in front of her.

"Why'd you lose the knife?" she panted, and let some slack up on his neck. She didn't want him passing out.

Sucking in air gratefully, Jesse took a moment to try to catch his breath enough to answer. "Couldn't use it. Was holding me back," he gasped out. That made Claire's brow push down, but the expression evaporated when she caught the eye of two passersby wandering by the gym's hallway window. The binding went slack, first at his throat, then both wrists. She let him go completely, circling around.

"Then why'd you chose it?" Claire bent down to a crouch in front of him, two gentle fingers pressed under his jaw so she could get a quick look. _Good_, no damage done. There were a few times she thought she might've gone too far.

Jesse swallowed hard. The fight had been weird. Being tied in five seconds had been weird. Having her gentle hands on him, her face close enough to kiss, that was just unnerving. "I was picking what I would've picked had it been a real fight. But it wasn't a real fight. Kind of only realized that once it was started."

"Good enough answer," Claire commented with a small smile on her lips. There was only so much one could do to pretend-obviously she'd never intentionally hurt him, and she'd do her best to make sure she didn't accidentally break something either. Claire also knew the same went with him.

"Let's get some lunch." She patted his cheek in good humor, and rolled her shoulders back to stand.

He gave a breath of a laugh, getting to his feet. "Yes, Mistress."

"_Hey_, I'm a sweet, gentle, picture of demure femininity," she retorted in the same tone he used. Hopefully the little flood of pink that crossed her cheek and nose was hidden when she gathered their things.


	12. Episode 6: April Fools

Claire wasn't normally one to partake in childish things; the latter part of her childhood had been put on fast forward, and she never went to college. She was barely used to things like mutual cohabitation in the last several years, so when she discovered every piece of underwear she owned crudely sewn together like a string of paper dolls-and the not-so-innocent faces on the two men that now shared her life-needless to say, she felt a bit out of her element.

Luckily, Claire was an _expert_ at internet research. So as she endured going commando for a day (a fact both Ben and Jesse found perfect for comments), Claire stocked up on the finer points of dorm-like living.

She'd start small, she promised herself. Hence the reason why she woke earlier than normal the morning after she snuck out of bed once both of them were asleep. She'd found a lovely neon pink colored nail polish at the 7-11 last night, and now it adorned Jesse's finger and toe-nails, complete with White-Out penned daisies on the end of each long, masculine digit.

That acrid smell in the room on top of the scent of breakfast and coffee she brought in for the three of them? _Superglue_. No nailpolish remover was getting rid of _her_ work anytime soon.

It was the smell of food that woke him up first, though Ben noticed the subtle difference from what it normally smelled like. His nose wrinkled up in distaste as he slowly rolled onto his side and pushed up. It had been his turn on the pull-out couch, and even with the nicer-quality rooms that Jesse had gotten them used to lately, he still hated how low-to-the-ground they were. It always threw him for a loop.

"Mornin'," he said in a tired voice, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Claire smiled crookedly at him from the kitchenette table, popping a mini-cinnamon roll in her mouth. Ben moved in behind her, sliding one hand along her back and pressing a sleepy kiss to the back of her neck as he got himself a mug for coffee.

"Sleep well?" she mused innocently while separating the melty pastries in front of her with her fingers. The morning kiss made her smile, but it'd been there already; she didn't give him much time to answer. "I swear, I heard our neighbors run the shower all night. That or they have a leak somewhere." She kept her attention on her breakfast, quite purposefully. "_Drip, drip, drip_, all fricken' night."

It was as if she'd tapped into some deep, psychological response, because the moment Ben finished pouring his coffee he moved out of the kitchen and toward the bathroom, completely oblivious.

"I didn't hear anything," he said as he disappeared through the door and shut it after him. Claire chuckled into a sip of coffee.

Jesse stumbled out of the room he shared with Claire the night before, heading for the bathroom, but he took a quick turn when he saw the door was closed, heading for Claire. Grabbing up Ben's mug, he leaned against the wall and studied Claire with sleepy eyes.

"Morning, Princess," Claire greeted him, not even bothering to hold back the smugness, even if most of it was aimed at her next morsel of icing and warm, gooey dough. Jesse gave a snort, shaking his head. So Claire did the fingernail job. He'd've sworn it was more Ben's thing, if they hadn't come out so nice.

A sudden voice yelped out from the bathroom: "Fuck-! _Dammit, Claire!_"

Jesse looked over, raising an eyebrow. "He really didn't take your paint job well, did he?"

"I s'pect he's the one doing the 'painting'." She snickered back at him.

Ben was shouting something. Definitely didn't sound like this was about nail polish, but Jesse wasn't getting Claire's reference. He sipped at Ben's coffee before holding out a hand. "You have to move me or something while I was sleeping? 'Cause it looks pretty good. Thick shit, though."

"I'm dedicated." Claire twisted toward him in her chair, the pleased-with-herself smirk broken only when she brought her thumb to her mouth to catch a bit of stray icing. "And you're a very deep sleeper."

Jesse's eyes lingered on her mouth a bit before he turned them quickly to the bathroom door. "So what'd you do to him?"

Ben stormed out of the bathroom, his face flushed and irritated.

"Not cool, Claire," he declared, already heading toward his bag to grab clothing to change into. His mind was running a mile a minute, trying to think of a good comeback. "That was gross as hell." Claire rolled her eyes, but was still smiling.

"Nothing he can't handle," she answered Jesse when Ben shut the bathroom door a little harder than normal.

The whiff of urine as Ben passed was enough to make Jesse glad he got away with just nails. "Your pretty diabolical for an angel girl," he said, tilting his head at her. "Though you know this means the game continues. We're gonna have to get you back."

Claire snorted confidently. "You call _me_ 'diabolical'-_you two_ started it." Of course, there was no bitterness in her voice, or the way she looked up at him, wolfish smile in place. "Just be prepared to reap what you sow." She ended that with a wink, and another piece of roll between her lips.

* * *

><p>It both felt like Jesse had been training forever and that he was completely new to it. Sometimes the moves would come easy, the learned steps as instinctive as breathing. Other times Claire laid him flat without hardly moving a muscle.<p>

Practicing out on the overgrown lot behind the motel made that second option suck all the more. Jesse circled cautiously, watching Claire's chest to see which way she'd move next. He had an already-healing scrape on his arm from where she'd tripped him up, but he managed to get to his feet before being pinned. He liked to think this was getting tougher for her.

Which, _he was_, and Claire didn't miss an opportunity to let him know that. She was a firm believer in giving praise as a reward, and quickly correcting mistakes so that they'd be remembered. By this point, he'd seen most - if not all - of her coordinated ways to take him off guard, but it was the quick thinking on his feet that really mattered. Steam from the early morning chill puffed and evaporated with her breath, held _on purpose_ a split second before she lunged at his side with a grab for his wrist and shoulder, then faked back and tried to sweep his weight-bearing foot out from under him.

At the very last second, a blaring and unexpected noise screeched out from Ben's direction. Jesse jumped, his footing thrown off. He had no chance at avoiding Claire's sweep and went down hard. She came down with him, landing half on him, half on the ground.

Ben cackled in response as the two of them went sprawling, looking infinitely pleased with himself at managing to catch them both off-guard. He had one more trick up his sleeve for Claire, seeing as she'd caught him with something gross that morning, but he didn't want to move too quickly or she might suspect he was a lot more healed than he should have been.

"Gotta be ready for anything!" he shouted from his seat atop the hood of the GTO, tucking the horn back into his bag as he resumed his online research. Claire just stayed there for a moment, trying to ignore the stab of a sharp pebble that greeted her kneecap on landing.

"Where the hell did he get an air horn..." she grunted through her teeth and huffed, pushing off Jesse's chest to stand up.

Jesse pushed himself up with a grunt, dusting off his ass. "Hey, Ben, careful around those porn sites. They give your computer viruses," he said with a smirk. Claire snickered, despite a small flash of warmth.

"Yeah man, whatev-..." Ben faded off when the screen suddenly turned blue. His eyes grew wide. Then it started to flash the words **BUSTY ASIAN BEAUTIES** over and over in rainbow gradient effects.

"HEY!" he shouted, looking up sharply. "I have six years' worth of shit on here, you asshole! Change it back!"

Justice was justice, and the note of panic in Ben's voice was satisfying enough. Claire looked at Jesse with a clear point of victory, then pressed her smile and raised her brows, nodding at the computer. They really did need the thing.

Jesse bobbed his eyebrows at her. "I can change it back, mate, but you gotta offer something on the table. Better hurry, too, before it wipes you clean."

"How about I offer kicking your _ass!_" Ben said, his voice edging on a snarl. Claire's prank had sucked, and Jesse was grossly misusing his powers. In the end, that was the only advantage he had over the other man: physical pranks. A brilliant one burst into his head, curbing the fury that raced through him at the idea of losing video letters from his sister and all his music from when he'd had to sell his CD collection for extra cash.

"I'll wash the next load of laundry, okay! Just change it back! Fuck!"

"Laundry?" Jesse scoffed. "How 'bout you take my next ten rotations on the sofabed?"

"Fuck you!" Ben spat. The words on the screen changed to **PREMATURE EJACULATION** and Ben's face went red. "Five rotations!" Claire was staying well out of this one, and had wandered close to Ben and the GTO while the children hacked it out.

"Ten, and no more swearing at me the rest of the day," Jesse said, his smile relaxed. "It's a set deal, take it or leave it."

Ben clearly started to hyperventilate when Claire moved closer, and that was all it took to have him bleat out his answer: "FINE! JESUS!" Claire smacked Ben's leg for the minor blasphemy, then took a peek at the apparently mangled laptop screen, just in time for it to go back to the previous window he had open.

"Gonna hold you to it, too," Jesse said, grinning as he wandered over. "All the moves Claire's teaching me, I can totally take your ass."

"You gotta sleep sometime, you douche," Ben grumbled bitterly. He turned away from the both of them, barely remembering to make a show of wincing as he slid sideways off the hood to go hide in the car. He was stopped by Claire's hand in his and her cajoling look, complete with pout. Ben frowned slightly and resettled, tucking the computer against his lap again.

"Lemme alone, I heard you snicker," he grumbled again, though the bitterness was gone.

She half-smiled at him and kissed his shoulder. "And you're such a Drama Queen. What'd you find?" Claire scooted next to him, then looked up at Jesse, patting the hood next to her.

Jesse hesitated a moment, glancing at Ben. Their interplay felt sweetly intimate and Jesse felt odd being invited over. But it was just sitting on the hood of a car; he shook his head, feeling stupid as he sat next to Claire.

"Possible haunting in Dekalb," Ben reported, scrolling down the screen as he read the brief news article aloud. When he finished, he added: "It sounds too much like an attempt at drumming up some publicity though, but it's worth checking out just to be sure, right?" The last part he geared toward the both of them, looking between their gazes. Claire's squinted in memory.

"Dekalb, _Illinois_?" She posed it as a question, though the article already proved she knew the answer. An old insane asylum slash sanitarium still stood on the outskirts of the small college town. She knew because it was a boring drive from where she grew up. "Rumors have hung around that place since I was little."

His gaze jerking from the page to her, Jesse said, "You grew up around there?" She nodded, meeting his eyes.

"Bout an hour away."

"Let's get goin', then," Ben replied, clicking through the start menu to put the computer on hibernate. "I call shotgun."

* * *

><p>It was too short of a trip to get either of them back in the car, but Ben didn't let that bother him. He did, however, take advantage of his position in the front seat and Jesse's inability to see his hands by messing with any spare patch of skin on Claire's body while she drove, much to her chagrin and pink-cheeked glances. He was pretty sure by the end of the drive he had her worked up, but Ben didn't take it a single step further. Instead, he immediately went into the bathroom and locked the door behind him, making sure to take his bag and laptop along just to be sure they didn't mess with his stuff while he was out of sight.<p>

From her sit on the dingy trucker-hotel bed, Claire looked at the closed bathroom door for the fifth time in ten minutes, and shook her head. No doubt in her mind, now, that his disappearance was fully intentional. She went back to filling the shotgun shells spread on a towel in front of her with rock salt.

"He's either brooding or wants us to _think_ he's brooding," she said to Jesse without looking up.

"Or he's jerking off," Jesse said, capping the shells as she finished with them. "He's got his laptop in there." The twist of his smile said he was joking, though inwardly we wasn't so sure.

"I can hear you, yanno!" Ben shouted from the bathroom.

Jesse gave a snort before moaning, overly loud, "Oh yeah, Claire, just like that! Take it, baby!"

Claire snapped her eyes up in a moment of mortification, but caught the playful glint in Jesse's eyes. She snorted, and looked back down at what she was doing. _Not getting into that_, she told herself, and tried like hell to keep the fire from under her cheeks. She failed miserably.

There was a long silence on the other door before Ben finally shouted out again: "When ya wanna head out?"

Jesse looked at the door, his smile wavering. Had he stepped over a line? This was new territory for him, thinking before flirting. "Whenever you finish up in there," he said, resisting adding more. A few moments later the shower turned on, filling the hotel room with the sound of white noise. Claire looked at the door again, then at Jesse.

"Guess that means a bit longer," she breathed, gathering the finished shells to drop in the bag by the bed.

"At least this time I know what we're going up against," Jesse said brightly. "I got ghosts pretty well covered."

Claire laughed delicately, but there wasn't much color to the sound. She was slowly easing into what Ben liked to call 'Grapefruit Face' mode; a mix of rigid seriousness and healthy paranoia.

"So long as you remember they don't fight like me."

"Yeah, you're a lot meaner," he teased.

"You like it," she teased back, then cocked the shot gun and bobbed her eyebrows for good measure.

Jesse gave a laugh and a salute before leaning back in his chair. Even he was starting to grow quiet, though. That night in the woods kept creeping back into his head, reminding him of where he'd gone wrong. Claire noticed the way his eyes dulled, and felt a small twist in her chest.

She stood from the bed, holding the gun by it's stock down at her thigh, her other hand laid on his shoulder and squeezed. "You'll do fine." Her hand gave another soft pat, then slid away as she headed for the small table, gathering the things they'd need. Jesse took a deep breath, trying to shake the uncertainty off.

The shower went silent, and in a handful of moments Ben reemerged, his hair still a bit damp but dressed in fresh clothes and looking a lot more upbeat. His two bags were slung over either shoulder, but he stopped dead when he realized there were only two beds in the room. He hadn't noticed properly when he'd first walked through.

"Where's the hide-a-bed?" he asked, a little baffled.

Jesse tilted his head at him, not bothering yet to get up. "Don't have one. Guess who gets the floor tonight?"

Ben scowled. "C'mon, don't b-" he bit the words off, trying again. "That isn't fair."

Claire didn't want to get into this at the moment, considering the uncomfortable way it pricked at nerves behind her jaw, but she did anyway-if only to get past it. "You're not sleeping on the floor with your ribs." Her eyes went up to him, then Jesse, immobile on the subject as she slung on her jacket.

"C'mon, guys, I was joking," Jesse said, pushing to his feet. "I'll make something up for you tonight, alright? Gotta baby those ribs."

Ben swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. He let his gaze linger on Jesse's eyes for a moment before he looked away, dropping his duffel next to the dresser since he couldn't shove it beneath his bed.

"I'm gonna go get a soda," he said. "Meet you at the car."

"We're ready anyway," Claire injected, zipping her coat. She didn't like the tense reminder of Ben's last week decision, even if she'd grown used to its reasoning. There was still a spike of innate hurt that came with it, and she was looking forward to ignoring it as soon as possible. Luckily, the distraction came as soon as she passed the bathroom. She paused as she caught a familiar scent.

"Did you use my shampoo?" she asked, a little more than puzzled, following him out the door.

* * *

><p>The ride out to the abandoned sanitarium was relatively uneventful, but what greeted them when they arrived certainly wasn't. The building was no longer abandoned and appeared to have been converted into some sort of horror-based amusement park. Ben stared at the building from the driver's seat with a frown as he pulled into a parking spot as close as he could manage to get without being conspicuous. Maybe this was a dud hunt, but then he thought back to the stories about tourist spots being haunted; they weren't always bogus. It still deserved a thorough look.<p>

However, night-time seemed to be their main operating hours. The occasional shriek could be heard echoing through one of the many windows of the building, interlaced with the throbbing ambient music the proprietors had decided on.

"I'm gonna interview some of the people in the parking lot," Ben said as he pocketed the keys. "Call me if any real ghosts show up."

_Don't remember this from the stories_, Claire thought to herself, scowling at the looming building, made orange by early dusk. Tourist trap or not, it still looked like it should be condemned, if it wasn't already. Nevertheless, she slipped out of the passenger seat and held the door by a hip for Jesse. She dipped back into the open window, holding on the GTO's roof.

"Quick rounds, we'll be out in a half hour at most. If not," she pressed her lips into that _you know what to do_ expression.

Jesse nodded firmly, his eyes overly wide. "See you back here then."

Ben nodded, watching as Claire started off before reaching out to grab Jesse's arm briefly.

"Keep her safe, okay?" he said, low and quick.

It felt like a fist closed over inside Jesse's chest. He could only manage a nod before he quickly followed after Claire. Ben didn't need to worry. Jesse was going to do it right this time. He wasn't leaving Claire's side until she was back safe in the car.

The front walk to the main office of the complex was the only accessible path-everything else had been blocked off by chain link or sheet metal, obviously for security and cheesy industrial effect. Claire would've liked to make her own way in, but this was just a casing. If they needed, they'd come back later.

It was the _inside_ of the building that threw her for a loop. Not fixed up by any means, but the space had definitely been altered to be 'livable', and right there in front of what had surely been a nurses station thirty years ago, two heads perked at the sound of their entrance. Claire looked at Jesse, mumbling, "Apparently we're early," before she set her eyes on the two behind the counter.

The brunet flashed a winning smile at them, adjusting his glasses with a push of his finger before barreling into what no doubt was a well-rehearsed speech:

"Hello there, fellow ghost hunters! Welcome to the official Ghostfacers Haunted Asylum!" He paused for a moment while his blond associate flipped a switch underneath the counter. A very cheesy theme song suddenly erupted from the speakers above.

"Are you prepared to experience the most terrifying scenes of your life? All we need is proof of ID and $9 each for admission-"

Claire's shoulders slightly deflated. There were so many things wrong with this, she was having trouble pinpointing the one that bothered her the most. After a pause, she cleared her throat as if it were a personal reset button, and bellied up to the counter. She put on her best co-ed smile, leaning a bit on the ledge. First, the one with the glasses had her attention, her head tipped delicately, so a few pale waves drifted over her shoulder and dangled toward them.

"Ghostfacers, huh?" She shifted weight from boot to boot, tick-tocking her hips in kind. Casual as fucking ever, since that's apparently what these two felt about hunting-however naive they were about it. "How bout you tell me what I'm paying for?"

The brunet stuttered to a stop, a flush rising high in his freckled cheeks. "Err... it's a haunted house?"

"Asylum," the blond corrected.

"Yeah, that. This place used to be a crazy house." The brunet swallowed before apparently finding his internal script. "It's said that the souls of the insane inpatients still haunt these halls, looking for revenge on their tormentors-"

"Yeah, read the brochure-" Claire interrupted him with a slightly chilly smile, even though she lied through her teeth. It didn't take a genius to hear a ploy. "So what's it-actors? Animatronic props and sound effects?" She was baiting them out of script-land and revenue, if anything to see if this was actually worth their time.

"There have been actual sightings," the blond man said in a serious voice. "That's why the show founders opened in this location. It's only an echo, though."

Jesse perked up; he knew that word. The brunet turned his head so hard it looked like he had whiplash. "Kyle! You're not supposed to tell them-!"

"Relax, it's not like they even know what an echo is, Dev," Kyle answered, looking back up at Claire with a polite smile. "So yeah, there are real ghosts. If you're reporters and you're here on a story-" he turned to glance at Jesse briefly before looking up at Claire again, "-You'll have to talk to Harry and Ed about it. I can take your number and have them call you?"

Claire wasn't sure whether she should be amused or annoyed, but the former came with less baggage for the moment. She decided not to burst their bubble, and looked at her upturned wrist. Her watch-which always twisted around to sit on the Protection sigil tattooed there-said it was a quarter to seven. She smiled back at the two behind the counter.

"When're they gonna be _here_?" An Echo that obviously wasn't hurting anyone, or so she gathered, didn't need any immediate intervention.

"That's a proprietor secret-"

"9:26," Kyle interrupted. Dev looked affronted. Kyle's face suddenly twisted in pain. "OW!" He promptly punched the other man in the shoulder.

"I'm gonna tell Ambyr you're blabbing."

"I'm gonna TP your car if you tread on my foot again, you stupid-"

"If you want any more information, you're gonna have to pay..." Dev faded off as he looked up just in time to see Claire and Jesse already heading out the door. "Hey, wait!"

Claire paused, squinting against the glare of the sunset, but humored him for a few seconds.

"If you're press, we really need your names and numbers or somethin'. We could lose our jobs," Dev said quickly. Claire scoffed lightly, though there was a lopsided grin on her face. _It_ was also humoring.

"_This_-" she gestured around the inside of the lobby with one slowly twirled finger. "-is not a job." They didn't need names, not even fake ones. Claire bumped back out the door, and let it close behind her. Jesse looked back at them with a shrug before following.

"This happen often?" Jesse asked as they headed back to the car.

"You mean do we get to a job and find out it's an overpriced amusement park?" Claire gleamed up at him, chortling as she shook her head. "All the time."

Jesse grinned. "That must get annoying."

The two of them moved back toward the GTO, but Ben wasn't there. He wasn't far though; he had his hand resting on the hood of a car four spots down, talking to a pretty brunette with long dark hair and a dancer's frame.

"You come here a lot?"

Her lips twisted in response to his question. "Once or twice a month. They're pretty good about mixing it up so that it isn't the same gags every time. I haven't caught the ghost yet, though."

They couldn't quite see his face as he was angled toward her, but he gave a laugh that bordered on suggestive.

"Well if you're only coming twice a month, of course you won't catch the ghost."

Jesse scowled slightly, heading towards Ben and the woman without a word. There was something about her, a gut-level twist of recognition. "Hey there," Jesse said, nodding at Ben and raising an eyebrow. Claire had followed, a little behind; her eyes set on the brunette when she paused between Ben and Jesse. It didn't take a microscope to see Jesse's oddly placed concern, but Ben didn't seem fazed at all-so she kept her expression neutral.

Ben turned his head the moment he heard Jesse's voice, though he didn't withdraw his posture from around the girl still standing mere inches away from him.

"Hey guys. Abbey here was just telling me about the asylum. She's been a big fan of the Ghostfacers for a while." He turned his eyes back to the girl and he smiled.

"Abbey?" Jesse said, tilting his head. He didn't recognize the name at least. "Have we met before?"

Abbey smiled at Jesse, her brows knitting as she studied his face a moment. "Are you a Delta Chi? Maybe we met at the party last week."

"Delta...Chi?" he repeated, looking to Ben for help.

"Nah, we're Sigmas," Ben said crisply. Claire had difficulty not rolling her eyes. "Delta Chi parties suck. You should come by one of these days. That's where the real parties are."

"Maybe I'll seeya there," Abbey said, her smiling eyes back on Jesse again. "I should go, my friends are probably already waiting for me inside."

"Have fun in there," Claire added without that much enthusiasm, and with a smile that matched her tone. She was starting to agree with Jesse's original look of mild disdain.

Jesse wanted to stop her, to figure out where he'd seen her. But that might be drawing too much attention, and he didn't know any Midwest sorority girls. As she wandered off, Jesse turned sharp to Ben.

"Who is she again?"

"Abbey Foster," Ben replied. "Born in Lake Oswego, Oregon, twenty-nine years old, going back for her Master's degree in Socio-economics. She's also into jazz dance." His grin lengthened slightly. "And thai food."

Claire shared a quick look with Jesse before lifting her brows at Ben. "You got all that in the five minutes we were gone? By the way," She smirked faintly. "'The Sigmas' is a sorority. So lemme know when you get initiated; I'll make you a bath-salt basket."

Ben's face heated up a little, even in the dimming light. "I knew that. I was just testing her to see if she did."

"Uh-huh," she replied flatly. _By making yourself look completely fake._ Claire brushed the mild amusement off for what really concerned her: the fact that the brunette didn't seem to pick up on his blunder either.

"You felt it, too, then?" Jesse said, his wide eyes on Ben. "That sort of...off thing about her."

"What, so she doesn't know her frats and sororities," Ben interjected. "Or maybe she does and she just has an excellent poker face. She said this place has only been open a month. There's nothing here; let's go."

"No!" Jesse snapped, a little shocked at his own irritation. Ben jumped slightly. Claire just looked at him. "Look, you were testing her for a reason, right? You also told me hunters need to trust their guts, and my guts are saying something's up with that girl."

Ben's lips turned up in a wry smile. "Jess, I love it when you get all authoritative." Claire sent an exaggerated smirk at Ben, though he seemed not to notice. His smile turned serious. "Fine, let's follow her in and see what happens."

* * *

><p>The guys behind the counter had been more than a little surprised to see Jesse and Claire again. They shrugged it off as going to get their friend and got admission. The place looked just like a haunted asylum ought to. Jesse would have laughed if he wasn't so intent on finding that girl. There were far, far too many rooms, and it didn't help that people kept popping out of them covered in white stage make-up and dressed like some whacked out version of mental patients and staff.<p>

He was beginning to feel frustrated when his stomached gave that same lurch it had in the parking lot. Outside a closed door. Acting before thinking, he burst in - and saw a girl swallowing a column of black smoke.

"Jesse-!" One second he'd been there, the next, Claire was looking at the back of his head as he slammed through a door that lead God-knew-where. Her outburst had been pure instinct, same as the hand that clamped on Ben's forearm as she turned toward the door. There was plenty she could expect in a cheap thrill walk like the asylum had become, but _that_ socked her square in the gut.

The woman the demon had been riding her way into the building in fell to the floor in a heap, and the new one's head turned in their direction, her eyes flashing wide and black as she smiled at them.

"Hello," she said, her accent tall and clearly English. She waggled her fingers at them. Then winked one black eye. "Goodbye."

Then she was gone. Ben had been midway through a race through the open door, but halted jerkily the moment she vanished.

"Dammit," he cursed, bending down to the girl who had introduced herself as Abbey to check her pulse and see if she was breathing.

Jesse just stood there a moment and then realized he hadn't taken a breath in a while. With a gasp, he said, "That was a demon." The blood in his veins seemed to have turned to ice and he felt dizzy. It had been uncomfortable enough having Ben explain them to him. Finally seeing one, he felt a bit ill. _It just disappeared. Like me._

"Winner winner, chicken dinner," Ben said from the floor. "She's still breathing." He started to hook his arms beneath her before remembering himself and wincing, both in frustration and for show. "Jess, help me get 'er up."

Claire's blood pressure had spiked, but plateaued enough to act on her urgency-while Ben addressed the demon's former meatsuit, she had sent a careful look down the hall for witnesses or cameras. Unfortunately, there was at least one; a standard security model mounted at the hallway junction. Two seconds later, a dark figure lead by a flashlight beam rounded the corner. Claire ground her teeth together.

"Possible party pooper on his way," she locked eyes with Ben, then lifted her brows knowingly at Jesse. "She got scared and passed out-we're just taking her back to the car."

Jesse's heart jump-starting again, he nodded before going quickly to Ben and helping him lift the girl into his arms. She was dead weight, which felt a lot heavier than it had lifting Claire, but he figured he could make it to the car.

The security guard looked a lot more imposing than the two geeks behind the front counter, but Ben made a point of putting on a very serious, upset expression. "Sorry, excuse me, my girlfriend passed out. She's diabetic and I have to get her her medicine."

The guard's brows rose and his eyes widened. "Sure, yeah, no problem. Go on ahead."

"Thank you," Ben said in a rush, taking up the rear as Jesse rushed up the hall.

Jesse was quiet on the ride back. Part of him was back sixteen years ago, on the night an angel had come to kill him, a demon had come to rescue him, and a man had told him he had a choice, so he picked neither. Part of him was stuck with that girl, how panicked she had been when she woke up, the confusion of everything she'd gone through, and the calm that had spread over her when Jesse helped explain those memories.

The demon had crawled inside her, used her like a puppet. Jesse didn't need to get inside people. He made them puppets with words. How different was what the demon done to that girl from what he did to her? _Not much._ That's why he'd felt it, deep in his stomach when he saw the girl Abbey. He'd recognized her, alright. He saw himself.

Ben had been excited to pull his prank once they were back home, but looking over at his friend where he sat, sullen and pensive, the excitement drained from him. They were on a hunt for real now; the party was over. There was no way to know if the demon had gone far, but by all accounts they needed to at least try to find out. It'd snatched whatever girl it had very deliberately. Maybe they could find a connection. His hand came up to Jesse's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"You okay, man?"

Jesse jumped slightly at the touch, but quickly put on a smile. "Shit, man, one little demon scare ain't enough for me to let you seduce me," he said, shrugging away from his hand. "Keep both hands on your side of the seat."

Ben immediately flushed at his word choice, but he tried to laugh it off. "Yeah, okay. You just look like someone pissed in your cereal, is all. Just makin' sure you're still on board."

"Got it," Claire chimed in from the backseat, her features cut by shadow and blue light from the laptop screen. She'd hacked into the Ghostfacers minor-league security system, thanks to the very prominently displayed agency symbol on the side of the camera.

Her fingertip swiped the mouse-field, scrolling down through the digitally captured images of each piece of ID that'd been scanned after their owners were parted from their nine dollars. It stopped when she came on the face of the girl the demon had jumped out with. Claire remembered her by the emerald nostril stud.

"Lisa Hale. Northern Illinois student ID," Claire made a face to herself. "You'd think they'd stop putting social security numbers on these things..."

"Well at least we have a lead," Ben said. "We'll go and talk to her family tomorrow, see what else we can drum up." He paused a beat. "Any possibility you can wipe her out of their database?"

"Two steps ahead'a you." A few clicks tapped out on the keyboard; after she saved the image to her hard drive, Lisa Hale officially never set foot in the Greenburg Sanitarium. In another window, lists of information popped up thanks to the series of digits on the girl's ID. The tip of her tongue explored the back of her teeth for a moment, scanning it all with her eyes.

"Looks like the closest family is in Nashville, but..." her voice trailed as she read. "Says here she's an RA in Thompson Hall."

"A what?" Jesse said, turning in his seat.

"Resident Assistant," Claire looked up from beneath her lashes, her eyes took on the same color as the LED light that lit her face. "Most dorm floors have one student hired by the school as a sort of Superintendent for the rest of the floor."

"Y'know," Ben said with a faint smile sent into the rearview mirror. "For someone who's never been to college, you sure know a lot about how it all works." Claire's eyes shifted to Ben's half-image in the mirror, smirking at him.

"I know a lot about a lot of things," she teased, then looked back at her laptop, continuing. "How else would I blend in?"

Jesse just grinned. "So this mean we're going to go to an American college? I figured I'd hit one for the booze and girls on my trip, but you two kinda sidetracked me. At least now we're talking my kind of work." In the backseat, Claire snorted.

"Dude, this isn't exactly a Girls Gone Wild set," Ben admonished lightly. "Work first, play later."

"Some of us can manage both at once," Jesse said, lounging back in his seat.

Ben dragged his eyes away from the rearview and Claire's reflection, looking back to the road again. "Multitasking on a job is a good way to get shot." He cast a sideways glance at Jesse. "Or has your Jedi Master taught you nothing?"

Jesse's lounge turned into more of a sag. "You sure can take all the fun out of life, mate," he said, pouting.

"When the hunt's over we'll have fun," Ben replied.

* * *

><p>It was just a case of waiting for nightfall at that point. Jesse and Claire were due to get up and train soon. However, Ben still had his pranks to make up. The two of them had got him good, borderline cruel, and he was going to get them back if it was the last thing he did.<p>

Ben waited until they were asleep before going out into the car and filling the air conditioning vents with flour and about six thousand paper dots from the whole punch that he'd conveniently been saving.

Jesse's, however, was a little more brutal. He waited until about 5:30 -45 minutes before their typical wake-up time- before warming a small container of wax in some boiling water and prepping up the strips. Jesse slept without a shirt on anyway. The prank practically set itself up.

Ben bit his lips to keep from cracking up as he carefully padded over to Jesse's sleeping form, gently adjusted the blankets a bit better, then ever-so-smoothly applied the two strips. Jesse was already starting to wake up from the contact, so Ben did what only came next:

He ripped them cleanly off.

Claire shot awake as Jesse screamed in shock and pain, his back arching. Then his training kicked in and he lashed out with a foot - except it was tangled in the sheets still. By that time he'd woken fully and was able to register the laughing face of his tormentor.

"Ben, you motherfucker!" he snarled, a hand going to his burning nipples before he scrambled out of bed and bolted for Ben. Ben had been in the middle of doing a victory dance, but immediately cursed around his laughter and raced for the door. Claire just groaned inwardly and fell back into her covers.

* * *

><p>Color Claire unsurprised when she ran through the usual routine when tracking someone to find Lisa Hale wasn't anywhere to be found among co-eds or coworkers. A few phone calls from an untraceable pre-paid specifically purchased for the purpose resulted in what all three of them already knew: Lisa had uprooted. Because Lisa was-at least for some period of time-<em>not Lisa<em>.

But the trail hadn't gone cold yet. With the security around public campuses as it was, just wandering into a dorm and asking around would've brought out attention she wasn't keen on, but apparently the dorm the girl lived and worked in held a weekly event every Saturday night-a mixer for the surrounding dorms and off-campus students. Open to all.

Claire leaned close to the bathroom mirror, carefully drawing a dark brown liner just above her lashes. Her hair was finally dry, set in a slightly tighter curl than was natural, thanks to a pomegranate smelling cream. Combined with slightly heavier make-up around her eyes and the slightly revealing outfit, she thought she looked like a twenty-one year old ready to 'hit the bar' for her own self-destructive initiation into adulthood. Claire rolled her shoulders back and stared hard at the image. It reminded her of a few things from her past.

She shook it off well enough and headed out of the bathroom, picking her curls apart with her fingers, content to leave the past behind her-though some things had no choice but to linger.

"Almost ready?"

Ben looked up from where he was sitting in a nearby chair lacing up his shoes. His mouth fell open.

Jesse had been at a mirror, futzing with the lay of his bangs, but turned at her words. His heart gave a little tumble but he beamed at her. "Look at you, all co-ed-ed up."

"When in Rome, right?" Claire smirked back at Jesse, then switched her focus beyond him to Ben. That eye-contact wasn't hard to decipher; she held it for a pointed moment, then slowly lifted one brow, same as the corner of her lips. Ben closed his mouth and swallowed, his face feeling exceptionally warm. He could tell from the design of the shirt that she wasn't wearing a bra or if she was, it was the kind that clipped on in the front without straps or sides. It felt like his stomach bottomed out. He threw a leg hastily over his knee.

"Yeah," he said, his voice going a bit higher and drier than he liked before he cleared his throat. "Yeah, good to go." Her smile lingered a moment or two longer-not like she could banish it anyway.

Her cheeks a bit rosy, Claire turned to Jesse with her tipped-head look. One hand lifted to pluck a piece of fuzz that clung to the collar of his shirt. "How 'bout you?"

Thinking to himself that his heart really had no reason to give a skip at the brush of her hand, Jesse took a step back, spreading his arms wide. "What d'you think? Am I ready?" he said, showing off his dark and fitted jeans and untucked button shirt, with one more button undone than usual.

Though the question wasn't geared toward him, Ben found himself staring anyway. His throat, already parched from Claire's measured look, went as dry as a desert. Claire's leaning smile lengthened with a hint of even, white teeth.

"It'll do," she gave him a wink and reached for her jacket on the bed, only to grab the small vial of Holy Water from an inner pocket to put in the back of her jeans.

Ben would have liked nothing more than to take up the rear and follow them both to the car, but he knew what was waiting for them and trotted ahead, claiming the back seat and tossing the keys lightly underhand to Claire. She caught them with a soft hand, then sifted out the right key by reflex.

"Your turn to drive," he said, fighting to keep his face neutral before he pushed the bench seat back and slid in. She followed not far behind, settling behind the wheel without a single thought about the change. Claire swung the heavy door shut and adjusted the rear view from the last time Ben had driven, even checked her make-up in the process.

She thought she caught a glint of something on Ben's expression in the mirror, but a lingering look confirmed nothing. The key slid into the ignition just as Jesse's weight adjusted on the seat next to her. The engine grumbled to life, followed an instant later by a sudden cloud of what Claire first thought was gritty smoke forced from the vents, straight into her and Jesse's faces.

Claire held her breath and scrambled blindly for the AC off knob. Jesse sputtered, his hand shooting out to try to close the vents. "Fucker!" The blasting air finally shut off, followed by Claire's hard, yet sweet smelling cough. _Baby powder_, and it was **everywhere**, and littered with little pieces of something she couldn't identify, clinging to her hair and the strategically placed shreds of her shirt. Ben's laughter filled the car, punctuated by short little coughs as the dust of the baby powder got to him as well. His strategic seating left him mostly unaffected.

"You are so detailing my car tomorrow..." she sputtered roughly, grappling for the door handle to get outside and away from the grainy air.

* * *

><p>They could hear the throbbing of the music from their parking spot along the street. The sidewalks were crowded with chatty women in tight clothes and the scent of beer was on the air. Jesse kept getting ahead of Ben and Claire and then had to wait for them to catch up. He was positively bouncing to get his first taste of college life. The walls of the building had even been decorated for the party, covered in squiggles of what must have been some serious glow-in-the-dark paint. They were practically giving off light.<p>

He was already bobbing along to the band as they finally made it through the doors, pushing past the ring of smokers. They were pressed up against people it was so crowded and a blacklight made t-shirts and teeth glow. He knew they were there for a job and he had to be serious, but he just had to turn to Ben and Claire and tell them how cool it was. Only he stopped short, his eyes going wide.

"You got some of that paint, too!" he said with a laugh, pointing and the elaborate circle that glowed on Claire's chest.

"...whatnow?" She finally said after a long pause of trying to figure out what Jesse was talking about. Paint? _On her chest_? Claire's look was more than a little dubious, and she shared it with Ben.

Ben blinked in surprised, trying to look at Claire's chest without really looking at it. He didn't _see_ any body paint. In fact, he didn't know what 'paint' Jesse was even referring to, but he did glance around to see if anyone else was sporting any. They weren't. He gave Jesse a bemused smile.

"You didn't drop any E before we left, did you?" he asked carefully.

Jesse gave a snort. "No. Look, it's just like the glowy paint outside," he said, tracing the outer rim of the circle.

Claire was taken back by the way her stomach flipped at the touch, but blinked herself back into focus. She looked down at her chest above the stretched hem of the destroyed tee shirt, moving her hair out of the way and tracking Jesse's finger with her eyes. Maybe this was part of the impromptu prank-war they'd fallen into lately, but there was definitely nothing there. Not that she could see. And the paint outside? What did that mean?

"I didn't-see anything outside, either..." A touch of worry crossed her features, sent back up to Jesse. "You sure you're feeling okay?"

The music faded off and the crowd roared in approval, clapping loudly. A slim buxom blonde had made her way up to the stage and taken up the mic given to her by the lead singer of the house band.

"How're ya'll doin' tonight?" she called into the crowd. They clapped and cheered. "Thanks for comin' to Thompson Hall, we're happy to have ya. Let's keep the party goin'!" She made a gesture with her hand and the DJ running the house beat cued up, leading the rest of the four-piece band.

"Some times I feel, I've got to-" she punched the air in the direction of the crowd, who joined in by stomping and punching in reply. "-run away. I've got to... get away-"

Distracted by the paint that apparently only he saw, Jesse didn't turn around until the music started again. And when he did, it was like a fist to the gut. He _knew_ that woman. It didn't matter that the face and body were completely different. She was the same person he'd met in the parking lot the day before. Or rather, she had the same thing inside her.

"Shit, guys, that's her," he said, his hands already grabbing for them as he turned around.

"That's _who_?" Claire tried to push her voice through the music, which had just gotten exponentially louder. Even as Jesse grabbed their hands and started forward through the crowd, she felt her gut start to twist. Unsettling things were starting to pile up, and way too quickly for Claire's taste.

Ben followed behind in a near-stumble in their haste, confused as to what Jesse was talking about and also why the music had suddenly started trancing him out. He _hated_ Soft Cell. Then the song mashed up against Lady GaGa's _Bad Romance_ and he found himself cringing even more.

Only, the words the girl on the stage sang out weren't _Bad Romance._ They sounded closer to Latin, though they weren't words that Ben knew. Ben jerked to a stop for a brief moment, his heels digging in. Claire did the same thing, as did nearly every body on the darkened dance floor, if for the briefest of moments, with all eyes on the blond woman in front of them all.

The hints of Lady GaGa faded on the harsh downbeat of a house mix of the song that started them off-Marilyn Manson's gritted voice picked up where the blonde's left off and spurred the crowd to move again, caught in the slow, raunchy grind of _Tainted Love._ Claire's fingers were still limply hooked in Jesse's until that moment, when they closed in and pulled him back toward her and Ben. Her eyes were heavy and over-warm, glossed by the thump of the music. Nothing else existed but that song. Nothing else mattered except moving with it.

Jesse stumbled back at the tug, his eyes wide. "Claire, what're you- That's the dem-" He stuttered to silence as Claire pushed in close, way way closer than appropriate. Then he let out a squeak of surprise as he felt Ben's firmer body push up from behind. A quick glance over his shoulder at him showed glazed-over, hungry, dilated eyes. Ben slid his arms around Jesse to put his hands firmly on Claire's hips, pulling both her and Jesse closer in the process.

The blonde surveyed the dancers from the stage with a look of satisfaction, exchanging significant glances with the band members, who all smiled in return. Then her eyes connected with Jesse's wide stare and she stepped off the stage, into the crowd.

Jesse would have given anything at that moment to be human. Claire and Ben's bodies moved in sinuous harmony against him, and though the shock of it still raced through him, there was no denying that it felt amazing. If he was human, he would be right there with them, not a care beyond the sound of the music and the feel of their bodies. But he wasn't. And he'd met the singer's eyes, the demon's eyes, and knew this was her doing. Ben and Claire didn't choose this, and that made all the difference.

Lifting Ben's arm out of the way, he squeezed from between them. "Stay here! I'll be right back!" he shouted before turning to follow after the demon.

Only to nearly run right into her. His stomach lurched and his hands grabbed her shoulders. "What did you do to them?" he snarled at her. The demon flashed her black eyes up at him, all but grinning.

"Oh honey, don't you have a sense of humor?" she asked, that tall English accent back in her voice again, not at all like the one on the stage. Her eyes looked around her briefly, then back up at his angry face. Her grin never wavered. "They will literally dance until they drop. Or until I stop them. Whichever comes first."

Claire and Ben had gravitated toward each other when Jesse slid out from between them, and were obviously oblivious to the scene right next to them. Literally lost in the spell of the music, Claire's back moved in sync with the roll of Ben's chest directly behind her-her arms arched back, her hands in his hair. The air was heavy and hot with moving bodies, and added a scant sheen to the blue glow of the sigil on her chest. Others around them moved in the same, and everyone with that sleepy-or carnal-look in their eyes.

"Then stop it!" Jesse said, a note of panic in his voice. "Why are you doing this? And what did you do with Lisa?"

Her grin became almost Cheshire. "That's for me to know and you to find out, Jesse Turner."

In the packed, hot room, it felt like ice had been poured down his spine. "Who the fuck are you?"

"You know," she said, strolling around his side and leaning up briefly to speak in his ear. "Your father has been looking for you for a long time. What's it been... sixteen years?" She continued around his back, coming out on the other side. "He'll be _so_ happy that you're safe and sound."

His heart pounded in his throat, his clenched fists shaking at his sides. He wanted to run, to disappear right there, but he couldn't. His jaw clenching, he forced power behind his words. "Take the spell off! Let them all go!"

The demon stopped immediately in her tracks, her eyes suddenly wide. Then she brought her hand up to her lips, issuing a sharp whistle. The music immediately stopped, leaving a deadening silence before everyone in the room started murmuring in confusion. Before Jesse could order again she sprinted off through the crowd. The men on the stage also started moving.

Then, out of nowhere, a fire alarm was tripped. Klaxons rang sharply and water started spraying out of the spigots on the ceiling. Jesse swore, grabbing the hands of a slightly dazed Ben and Claire.

"We gotta get out of here, now!" he roared over the crowd. Of course, that was the same thought everyone else in the place was having. The exits were jam-packed and they moved toward them excruciatingly slowly, Jesse's eyes constantly roving, on the lookout for someone he wouldn't recognize.

"What the hell just happened!" Ben shouted, his hand gripping Jesse's tight in his confusion.

"The demon. She cast some sort of spell, supposed to make people dance themselves to death." They were finally coming to the door, the crush of bodies growing tighter but Jesse's grip on their hands firm.

Claire had stiffened considerably under the thousand pinpricks of cold, stale water that drenched the seething crowd. It made her breaths short, but her mind was locked on the hazy memory of the last ten minutes. Disturbing as the realization was, Jesse's explanation made perfect sense. Claire felt a whole new form of chill twist through her veins, and held onto his hand tightly. But she stayed silent, locked in her own thoughts. Putting pieces together.

When they finally got to the door the bodies rapidly scattered outward, finally giving the three of them space enough to run. Jesse's words were finally catching up inside Ben's brain as he struggled to pull out the keys to the GTO with his free hand.

"How'd you know it was the same demon?" Ben said, his voice still loud to compensate the din of white noise still hanging in his ears. "And why'd she just up and jet?"

Jesse's stomach clenched. Of all the things for Ben to latch onto. "I don't know. I just did. Gut feeling," he said, mostly honestly. Claire looked up at him quickly before ducking into the GTO's back seat when Ben opened the door. Everything about the last day and a half lay scattered in her brain, and after _this_, she was desperate to pick them up and make sense of it all. Not three seconds after she settled, soaked and freezing, she had the laptop open.

The engine growled to life and they eased into the slow moving traffic, but at the intersection at the corner, when Ben slowed the car to make a right through the red light, Claire felt something low and gruff in timber vibrate through her thoughts. Like a voice, but not quite... and one she recognized. Immediately she snapped her eyes around through the back windshield.

Her gaze met and locked with one of the same color. A man stood on the side walk in front of Thompson Hall, a bit away from the crowd, dressed in a beige trench coat and slightly disheveled shirt-the exact outfit her father had been wearing the last time she laid eyes on him.

"_...Dad,_" she uttered, stunned and with barely enough breath to give the word voice. Except she knew, by his eyes, and by the vibration in her spine that it wasn't Jimmy Novak. Castiel's lips pressed together into a slightly straighter line-his only movement. When Claire blinked, he was gone..

* * *

><p>When they got back to the hotel, they found out that seven different people had been reported missing in the area. There appeared to be no real link between them, which made it all the more frustrating. Ben pulled his hair out as he went over the profiles with a fined toothed comb. They were varying ages, upstanding citizens, no major records on file, everything was squeaky clean. It made no sense. His <em>head<em> hurt. Were they all possessions? But why here and now?

"Doesn't make any damn sense," Ben muttered. If they were possessions, they would have just stayed in the area and corrupted the people not too unlike the one in the Thompson Hall had, but they were gone. It was as if they'd vanished. Jesse wasn't much help, pacing the room. He hadn't taken too well to Ben's insistence that they stay. As far as Jesse was concerned, the job was finished enough.

"What were you going on about before? About glowing paint?" Ben asked, looking up from the screen. However, before Jesse got a chance to respond, Ben's phone rang: _Mama, I'm coming home / Times gone by seems to be / You could have been a better fri-_ He picked it up quickly and put it to his ear.

"Hey mom, it's kind of a bad-"

"_Happy birthday to you-_"

Ben stopped immediately, his eyes going a little wide and his eyes dropping down to the digital clock in the corner of the screen. He hovered the mouse over it.

"_-dear Benjamen. Happy birthday to you._"

May 15th. How had he not realized it was May? He tried to put a smile in his voice.

"_We miss you, Ben!_" he heard Krysta call out over the phone.

"Wow, you guys. Thank you."

"_Why do you sound so surprised, baby?_"

Ben turned his eyes to Jesse, then looked over at the closed bathroom door where Claire was still showering. She'd been in there for 20 minutes.

"I didn't realize it was the 15th already."

"_Don't tell me you forgot your own birthday!_" Krysta called out. Ben cringed slightly.

"No, of course I wouldn't forget my own birthday. That's silly, Krys."

The words snapped Jesse out of his thoughts, his eyebrows raised at Ben.

"_Are ya comin' home? I gotcha a really cool present! You hafta come get it!_"

"_We'd try and send it to your PO Box, but the last letter we sent there got returned,_" came his mother's explanation. Ben cringed again.

"I really kinda can't, guys, I'm in the middle of a job right now."

"_Oh c'mon, please? Pretty please, Ben?_"

"Mom, pick up the phone a sec."

Ben was pacing now, his free hand rapidly moving up and through his hair over and over-a nervous tick that almost everyone recognized if they got to know him long enough.

"_What's wrong, Ben?_"

"Mom, there's a mass possession going on here, I can't just come home. I'll stop by once the job's finished-"

"_You're sure it's a possession?_"

The way she said it with such conviction in her tone, Ben was sure she moved to another room to talk. His muscles tightened.

"Yes!"

"_Ben..._"

"Maybe!" His face pinched as he looked up at the ceiling, then back at the closed bathroom door again. "Okay, no. I don't know for sure. But my friends think it is, there was demon activity earlier and there's mispers and it sounds like-"

"_Ben, come home. Krysta wants to see you. **I** want to see you. Call another hunter or something for backup, but please just come home._"

Ben rubbed his forehead hard then went back to mowing backwards through his hair with his hand. "I don't have a phonebook of backup just lying around, Mom-"

But Claire did. Claire had colleagues. He made a noise of frustration at having even remembered that fact, then turned his eyes back on Jesse again.

"But, fine. Fine. I'll come home."

"_When? Tomorrow? Where are you?_"

"Illinois," he said, sounding a little defeated. "I can be there in about three hours, give or take traffic."

"_Baby, it's midnight, go sleep first-_"

"I'll make one of my friends drive. Wouldn't wanna disappoint Krysta."

"_Okay, if you're sure. I'll stick the key under the mat, just let yourself in, okay? Are your friends coming, too?_"

Ben stared at Jesse again, who was looking more relaxed, then swallowed. "Yeah. We'll just check into a hotel and seeya in the morning. Ten sound good?"

"_Yeah, sure, baby. It's your birthday. Sleep in and call me when you get up so we can have lunch ready for you._"

"Okay. Seeya soon."

"_Oh hey, don't go; Krysta wants to say goodnight first._"

Ben suppressed a sigh and nodded. When his sister came back on the phone they exchanged a few more words, then he told them both he loved them and hung up. His jaw clenched and he stood silent mid-pace.

"That's good, going to see your family. Should see them as much as you can," Jesse said honestly. Just because the truth played into his preference didn't make it any less true. Ben scowled slightly at him and went over to his bag, throwing things in haphazardly. There wasn't much to re-pack, given they'd only been there one night.

"Claire, I'm gonna pack your bag!" Ben shouted in the direction of the door. He didn't wait for her answer, just worked quickly and efficiently at doing as he said.

"Hey, mate, I can do it. Why don't you see if Claire wants company?" Jesse said with a knowing grin. "It's your birthday after all, you asshole."

Jesse's words immediately brought a flush to his face.

"Shut up," he said, completely lacking venom. His expression turned concerned as his eyes gravitated toward the closed bathroom door. "She was pretty dazed coming in."

Jesse's smile faltered. "Can't blame her, after that. All the more reason you should join her; give her a good wake-up call." While he still smiled, it had a softer edge as he added quietly, "I'm serious, mate. Maybe not now, but don't let me stop you. I can make pretty serious earplugs if I need them."

Ben swallowed, turning Jesse's words over and over in his head. Claire had tried to hide them, but Ben still remembered seeing the emotions as they crossed over her face when he first told her they should stop sleeping in the same bed. He also remembered Jesse's face from the Trickster's time loop, the aching loneliness and jealousy pulling at his lips and brows; the way he'd tried to leave them. He knew Claire wouldn't leave with the little stipulation, but Jesse would. He wasn't going to allow that to happen.

"Yeah maybe if you _wanted_ to, but I know you like to watch," Ben said as his eyes snapped back to his friend, smirking slightly and pulling a rare blush from Jesse. "Besides, my ribs are still supposed to be broken, remember? Shower sex would definitely give her reason to wonder." He hefted both his bag and Claire's.

"Go check out in the lobby. Once Claire's out, you two meet me at the car."

He didn't wait for Jesse's answer, sliding quickly out the door.

* * *

><p>Elliot Prescott paused at the red light just before the turn-off for the interstate, rubbing his eyes and sighing. The red bull he'd drank earlier was finally starting to wear off, but he'd promised to pick up Taco Bell for his friend and potential girlfriend Haley when he was heading home from work. She was pulling an all-nighter on an essay that was due the following morning. It was the least he could do. Distractedly he turned his eyes off the road, catching the sight of a pretty blonde girl with her thumb out, walking up the street. It was enough to make him roll his window out.<p>

"Y'need a ride?" he shouted out the window, his eyes moving back to the light briefly out of paranoia. She smiled at him and trotted quickly up to the car.

"My car broke down!" she replied, her accent foreign. He winced in sympathy and unlocked the door, which she slid into.

"Thanks so much, I was really starting to get creeped out by everyone who was stopping," she said, bending over herself to rub her feet. She'd been wearing heels. Elliot once again felt sympathetic.

"Yeah, that was kind of a crazy idea. All kinds of crazies out this late. Don't you have a cell?"

"Battery's dead," she said replied with a weak smile. Elliot made a noise of dissent as he changed lanes. It was another 20 minutes before they reached his primary side destination.

"I can let you out at the Taco Bell so you can use their phone, maybe?" he offered. The blond just shook her head.

"Nah, it's okay," she said. "I've got my charger on me. Can I use your lighter socket?"

"Yeah, sure, no problem."

The blonde reached into her purse, but instead pulled out what looked like an old goblet, followed by a knife. He barely had a second to respond before she was pressing the knife to his throat.

"Pull over."

"Shit!" Elliot breathed out emphatically, doing as she said. "Okay, easy!" They were off the road in mere seconds, but he was already shaking. Was this a robbery? Would she take his money, or the car, too? "Please don't take my car, I'm still paying on it. Here, here's my wallet-"

"I don't want your money," the blonde interrupted in her tall-voweled accent. She gave him a small smile, but when he tried to ask her what she wanted he felt the knife's blade as it slit his throat. Fear, panic, and pain hit him in huge, black waves as he tried to stop the blood, but it was useless.

The demon stuck the goblet out as the blood spurted out of the wound, catching just enough to fill it before she finally pulled away and cleaned the knife on the body. It was only after the knife was back in her purse that she dipped her fingers into the chalice and bowed her head over it.

"_Clamavi ad te dominum meum,_" she whispered, pulling her fingers slowly above the blood. The contents began to swirl counter clockwise and she went silent.

"I have collected three more, my lord," she said into the chalice. "I would have collected another two, but there were was a slight set-back-"

She went suddenly silent again, her face pulled tightly.

"I understand. I will do better, my lord. You'll be happy to hear, though, that I've found your son."

The blood in the chalice suddenly bubbled over. The blonde's lips spread into a slow smile. "He travels with two vessels. The girl is protected and I can't track her, but the boy is not. Rest assured, I will follow them." She paused as the blood bubbled up a second time, then began to swirl more rapidly. The demon's face settled in a slight pinch, but she answered swiftly:

"Yes. Yes, absolutely. Thank you, my lord. I will report back once I've lead them to Canavilla."

There was one last bubble. The pinch in the demon's face faded and she smiled. "Yes, my lord. By any means necessary."


	13. Deleted Scene: Extra Credit

Claire was at church, much like every Sunday since they had started traveling together. Outside of his daily showers, it was the only time that Ben was separate from her. Since Jesse's joining them, however, even that had changed. To be completely truthful, Ben didn't really mind. He'd been hunting mostly lone for the past seven years; it felt good to have company again. He didn't feel the need to fill every single hour with hunting down monsters and his father when he had them there.

The only problem was that Jesse was still green to everything. Claire had taken up teaching him how to defend himself without his powers, and since he was supposed to be injured Ben opted to take up the more "geeky" of the options: monster facts and hunter knowledge basics. Of course, that job came with at least two dilemmas: first, that his patience was thin when he was frustrated; second, that Jesse was not the bookish type by a long shot. Ben was half-tempted to get Claire to pick up that part of the training as well, seeing as it would be more challenging to Jesse to defend himself _and_ to try recalling hunting trivia at the same time, but pride held him back.

"What do you do to banish a ghost?" Ben asked without looking up from his notebook.

"Burn the b'nes." Jesse's answer came out a bit muffled because he was currently balancing a pen between his nose and upper lip.

It wasn't that Jesse didn't appreciate Ben's effort, or that he didn't understand the importance of what he was learning. There was just so much he could take in a day. He'd never had to be attentive in school in the first place, so it was hard to start now.

"What do you do before you burn them?" Ben asked, looking up with a slight frown on his mouth.

"S'lt," he said, his eyes crossed in concentration. That was an easy thing. Salt took out most things, including him.

Ben flipped through a few pages of his notebook. "Of these three things, what works to disable a vamp: holy water, dead man's blood, or garlic?"

Jesse hesitated a moment. "Dead ma-fuck." He caught the pen as it tumbled then leaned back for another try. "Blood."

"Dead mafuck blood?" Ben asked, his lips twisting in a small smirk. "Is that your final answer?"

Jesse snatched the pen away with a grin. "Dead man's blood, asshole."

"Don't make me hit you with a yard stick, boy," Ben said in his best old-granny voice, the flipped a few more pages.

"List three creatures affected by iron."

Leaning forward on his knees, Jesse thought. "Demons." Easy. "Ghosts." Probably. And... "Vampires?"

"Wrong," the younger man answered. "One more try."

With a huff, Jesse leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. If it was one of those stupid complicated things he'd never heard of before, he wasn't going to remember. "Witches?"

"Legend," Ben said. "Witches can be as normal and apple-pie as the chick at Taco Bell. Faeries." He looked down at his book again, trying to find something a bit harder to go from. He could have him work on his Holy Water Latin, but Ben had a feeling Jesse would stop cooperating if he did. He was honestly surprised the other man had lasted this long without wanting a smoke break.

"What's the easiest way to tell someone is a skinwalker?"

"Stab them with a silver knife," Jesse said, his hand swiping the air.

"A _less dangerous_ way to check if someone's a skinwalker," Ben rephrased, smirking a little. "We can't just go stabbing people."

"Maybe _you_ can't," Jesse said, before running his hands over his face. Right. Skinwalkers. "Well if someone you know is acting funny, you can try stabbing them."

"Retinal flare in a camera," Ben informed him, frowning just a little. "It's a safer bet, and it saves a bail-out from jail for first-degree assault."

"Right. I'll just make sure and take a camera everywhere if I think a skinwalker's around," Jesse said, facing Ben in a slouch. "It'll never see me coming."

"You can check in a camera phone as well, dumbass," Ben answered, grabbing a post-it note, balling it up, and throwing it at Jesse, who batted it away. "If it's people killing people, it's not our business. Creatures, spirits, and demons only. We can't go stabbing people." He looked down again at the open notebook in his lap.

Jesse wanted to snark at that, but it wasn't worth the effort. Besides, he didn't disagree. "Yeah, can't save everyone. Just gotta be ready at all times." He said the words blandly enough, as though parroting them from somewhere. So Ben didn't see it coming until Jesse was up and tackling him out of his chair.

Hitting the ground was enough to knock the breath out of him in surprise, but Ben didn't hesitate for a second. Hooking his arm around Jesse's shoulder and his leg around his knee, Ben flipped him hard on his stomach before putting his hand against the back of his head to pin him down.

"If you wanted to stop, you couldda just asked," Ben said once he caught his breath, panting a little near Jesse's ear.

The breath sent a little thrill up Jesse's spine, but he pushed it aside, his body shifting to try to find an opening. He bucked his hips, sending his ass up the same time as he reached back and grabbed a fistful of Ben's shirt. The move forced Ben to press into him snugly, both arms hooking around his shoulders before he pressed both hands against the back of Jesse's head. The move forced the other man's arms up and out at a slightly uncomfortable angle.

Jesse squawked, trying to shift but the pressure and soft edge of pain on his neck made that all but impossible. "Alright, you got me, now let go," he said, annoyance coloring his words.

"Don't think I will," Ben said with a light laugh in his voice.

"C'mon, man!" Jesse snapped, not wanting to admit to the pain. He kicked out a leg, trying to sweep Ben off him, but he didn't budge.

"Tell me I'm awesome," Ben cajoled, still grinning as he pressed his hips a little harder into him.

The sensations that sent through him were dizzying and Jesse found himself speechless a moment. Finally, he managed, "You're awesome."

"You are such a horrible liar," Ben replied, moving his hands out from the back of Jesse's head and sitting back on his calves. "And a wuss, but whatever. Now recite the Holy Water prayer."

Jesse made a face, holding back the instinct to rub his neck. "I don't know it," he said, pushing to his feet.

"Well guess what, then?" Ben replied, picking up his abandoned notebook and flipping to the appropriate page before turning it around and thrusting it into Jesse's chest. "Time to learn it."

Jesse scowled. Of all the things he didn't need to learn, this was the top. "Yeah, well not today," he said, thrusting the notebook back.

"You need to learn it," Ben said, almost as though reading his mind. He took back the notebook anyway, closing it up and pulling the band around it to hold all the spare bits of paper inside. "I'm not letting you off that easy. Holy Water is very important to have, and it's a lot easier to know the prayer and do it yourself than to go stealing jugs from churches."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll learn it. Just not today. Y'know, I thought Claire would be the pushier teacher."

Ben smirked slightly, taking Jesse's statement as more of a compliment. "Yeah well, self-defence is one thing. Knowledge is almost more important. You shouldn't have to defend yourself if you know how to take out your opponent before they strike."

Great. A lecture. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he said, flopping back onto his bed.

Ben cocked his head to the side as he got up from the floor, looking at him with a bemused expression before speaking, "Claire won't be back for a few hours. Whatcha wanna do?"

"You wanna call a hooker again, don't you?" Jesse teased.

Ben grabbed the pen Jesse had previously been balancing on his lip and threw it at him. "No," he said frankly. "I..." His chest did something funny, but he pushed it down and ignored it. "No."

Jesse grinned, not having missed the hesitation. "You thought about it," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Claire not shown you her map of tassie yet?"

Ben frowned. "I'm not just gonna jump in bed with her, Jess," he said without missing a beat. "I care about her. She means more to me than that."

Feeling a little sheepish, Jesse shrugged. "Sorry. Figured if you'd jump in bed with a stranger, you wouldn't be against sleeping with someone you actually like."

Ben rubbed a hand against his forehead, his eyes gravitating up to the ceiling. His face felt hot. "I'm not against sleeping with her," he said quietly. "I just... don't want it to be for kicks. She's..." _Wonderful, smart, amazing, strong, perfect,_ the adjectives flowed through him like water, but he didn't say any of them aloud. "She deserves more than just that."

"Never said it would be _just_ that," Jesse said, his tone a little more serious and a hint of envy in his eyes. "Just, generally that's part of the whole...being together thing."

"We haven't really..." Ben said slowly, then sighed and dropped his head down to his chest. "I don't even really know if we're together outside of having shared a bed and maybe a few kisses. We haven't exactly talked about it." Hunters didn't exactly _date_, per se. In most cases, it was just a few one night stands. Ben had been in involuntary monkhood for years.

Jesse pushed himself up on his elbows, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not the relationship guru or anything, but it seems like the talking thing might be a good idea."

Ben sighed, then ran his hand backwards through his hair from the bottom to the top. "I'm not exactly good at talking, if you haven't noticed."

"Pussy," Jesse said with a snort. Ben snorted in kind.

"Yeah, thanks man. Knew I could count on you to lift my spirits."

Jesse grinned, cocking his head to the side. "It's not like it's hard, mate. Just say it now, for practice. What do you want to say to her?"

Ben's face flushed. "What?" he sputtered. "No! It's- what?"

"Just figure out the words you wanna say now, so you can talk easy with her later," Jesse said slowly, his grin widening. "Something like, 'Hi, Claire. I wanna fuck your brains out in a very loving manner. Do you want that, too?'"

"If I wanted her to break my ribs again yeah, I'll say it just like that." His lips twisted in a wry smile. "Better: I'll tell her you said I should."

"Maybe I'll tell her myself and see how it goes. You might wanna be quick, mate, before I get in there first," Jesse said with a wink.

Ben stared at him for a moment. Then, with about as much warning as he'd been given, Ben tackled him. With a yell, Jesse rolled with the tackle, trying to use Ben's own momentum to get on top of him. The two men wrestled viciously for a moment, but Jesse's more compact frame finally gave him the upper hand enough so that Ben was forced shoulders-down in the mattress. The younger man accepted the pin and didn't fight it, swallowing down the ball of nerves that had settled inside him.

"I love you," he said in a rush, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to stare up into Jesse's face. He tried to imagine it was Claire above him. "Before you found me, I was... lost. Looking for something I probably never wouldda found. It was dark and ugly, but you put so much light in me it burns, and I don't think I can go on like I was before knowing there's something better."

Panting above him, Jesse's mind froze at the words. They hit like a fist to the very center of him, leaving behind an ache that felt too good to be called pain. He became very aware of his hands on Ben's shoulders, his legs across his, his hips pinned against his groin. There was an overwhelming instinct to lean down and taste Ben's lips, if only for a moment.

But the words weren't for him.

"Yeah," he breathed, not moving from atop him. "Yeah, that'd be pretty good."

"Yeah but I-" Ben opened his eyes, looking up at Jesse, not even bothering to escape from him. The other man's face was flushed, his slightly-shaggy hair curling around his face, but the look in his eyes made something else in Ben's gut suddenly leap. It was like back in Madison again, that electricity pulsing through his whole body when their eyes met. He swallowed. "I won't be able to say that when it all comes down. I'm shit when I'm nervous. And that's rambly and bullshit as it is anyway, she'll think I ripped it from somethin', I know it."

"No," Jesse said, shifting off of him and onto the bedspread next to him. "You mean it, she'll be able to tell. The words aren't really the important bit anyway."

Ben didn't turn to look at him. He was afraid to. In fact, he was pretty sure he might go spilling some long-winded bullshit about how much he wanted him, too. And from what he could tell, Jesse only flirted with him to send him in a fit; he'd only ever seen his eyes following other women, if they followed at all. He forced the turbulent emotions down and locked them away.

"You're just sayin' that because you're plannin' to steal 'em," he joked.

That got a sincere laugh. "You're not Shakespeare, mate. If I wanted Claire all wet for me, I'd use my own words."

"Okay, Casanova," Ben retorted, smiling faintly but still not looking at him. The idea of Jesse with Claire wasn't as... terrifying as it once was. If it made either of them happy, he would bear it. He just hoped they'd at least give him similar common courtesies.

"'Course, that's a big if. Claire's about as much my type as you are," Jesse said, mostly teasing. Ben felt a horrible drop in his stomach. _At least I don't gotta hide how I'm feeling anymore,_ he thought sorely.

"I'm gonna take a shower," he said rolling sideways off the bed.

Jesse watched him go, a small twist in his stomach. But it didn't matter; it wasn't going to happen, so no use thinking about it. "Guess I'll just work on that Holy Water prayer."

"Sure y'are," Ben said with a smirk as he went to his bag and pulled out some clean clothes and his towel. "I'll be sure to stay in for a bit longer, just in case."

"Yeah, yeah, I know why _you're_ going to be in there a bit longer," Jesse teased back. "Though I hope you don't mind me borrowing your computer. For research."

Even as he said the words, Ben doubled back to grab it and stuffed it under his arm. He wasn't about to let Jesse go poking through his private files.

"Not a chance."


	14. Episode 7: 25 Candles

Despite what Ben told his mother on the phone, he couldn't find it in him to ask Claire to drive in her current state. And after asking if Jesse knew how to drive and getting a rather vague answer, that really only left him as a suitable driver. Three hours in Claire finally convinced him to pull into a gas station so that she could drive, which Jesse interjected by saying he was more than happy to, but Ben ignored them both and climbed back into the driver's seat. By the time they finally got to the hotel he was nearing zombie state, his eyelids heavy and every muscle in his body aching. He moved toward the hide-a-bed on automatic, but felt someone's arms steer him toward a bed instead. After that, everything else faded away.

When the first slants of light finally hit him from the window he groaned and put a pillow over his face, ineffectively blocking out the awareness that was slowly seeping into his head. All he wanted to do was sleep.

Jesse noticed Ben's movements and tip-toed a little quieter around their kitchenette. None of them had exactly gotten a decent amount of sleep, but Jesse and Claire had already been out to grab a few things. The little round cake was set up on the table, just waiting for the birthday boy to get up.

The two of them sat at the little table in the room, their chairs close so Jesse could see the screen of Claire's laptop as she filtered through symbols and languages that fit the description he'd given her of whatever he'd seen on her skin.

"You sure you can't draw it?" she asked him quietly, trying to keep from waking Ben. Her fatigue was starting to show in her posture; she listed to one side, her head propped up by her palm and an elbow set on Jesse's armrest.

"I could, but it would just look like a circle with random squiggles," he said, just above a whisper. "Much as I'd've liked a chance to study your chest, things got complicated." Claire's chortled response was little more than a puff of breath through a sleepy half-smile, though the silence that followed lingered a little. It was cut by Claire's small sigh.

"Yeah... they sure did," she agreed, distracted by the memory. It was hazy, but it was most definitely _there_.

The phone on the night stand between the two beds suddenly started buzzing loudly, followed by a distinctly pop-synth song and a high, female singer. It was very unlike Ben's taste. He startled awake almost violently at the ringtone, reaching out for it through a daze to answer it.

"Hello?" he said in a sleep-worn voice.

"_Benji, Benji! Get up already! It's 10 in the afternoon!_"

Ben groaned and fell back into the pillows again, starting into a mumbled conversation with his sister. With a slight smile, Jesse looked back at him. While they were all exhausted by it, Jesse was glad they had gotten out of there quickly. After what that demon had said, sticking around seemed like it would only bring bad news.

Turning back to Claire, his eyebrows shot up past his bangs. "Hold up. It was something like that one," he said, pointing at the circle with four smaller circles threaded on it. Claire pulled her eyes away from Ben and set them on Jesse, then her computer screen; she leaned in closer to read the handwritten, scanned in notes.

"It's a seal," she uttered quietly, squinting at the image. "Like an encryption-keeps things hidden. You saw this on _me_?" She asked it just to make sure he was positive. Claire had formed her ideas over the last twelve hours or so-if this is what he saw, those ideas were edging close to being reality.

"Yeah, pretty sure. The top squiggle's right at least, 'cause I remember thinking it looked like an asshole," he said, pointing at the top circle. Claire couldn't help but snort at the description. "So...something's keeping you hidden?"

She didn't answer him right off, only stared at the screen and rolled her lips. Jesse's question wasn't hard to figure out; Castiel had promised her father to keep her safe. What Claire was wondering was how Jesse could see the effects of a demon's flushing spell.

Ben clicked off the phone on the other side of the room and threw it weakly. It thudded on the carpet a few feet away. Then he threw an arm over his eyes.

"Fuck," he groaned. "Can it just be tomorrow already?"

"Already is in Australia," Jesse said with a grin. "C'mon, mate, get your ass over here and blow out your candles."

"Fuck your candles," Ben groaned again.

"Cranky ass birthday boy," Jesse said, getting up and grabbing Ben under the arms to try to yank him out of bed. "We didn't get sleep either, you know."

Ben made a plaintiff noise and tried to somehow slip out of his shirt and therefore out of Jesse's grip, but the attempt was both useless and pointless.

"Okay fine I'm up, I'm up!"

Claire watched them after finally turning her attention away from the sigil, a sleepy, but warm smile on her lips-even if it was a little distracted.

"You're ribs seem to be feeling better," she breathed, shaking a hand through her hair and drawing a knee up to her chest in the chair.

Ben tensed up a little, then forced himself to relax. "Yeah, a bit," he said, hoping his voice sounded calm. "Guess all that R&R and pampering is doing me good."

"Yeah, we're going to have to ease up on that," Jesse said, having no trouble sounding calm. "Now let's eat some cake!"

Grabbing his lighter, he finally lit the candles. "Happy birthday to you," Jesse started singing, grinning at Ben. Claire's smile warmed considerably as Jesse broke into song, her eyes switching back and forth between the two as she joined in.

All the sourness drained out of Ben as his two friends sang to him. If it was possible, it filled him with a deeper emotion than even his mother and sister's birthday singing had. He ducked his head and smiled bashfully down at the cake in front of him, store-bought but with ridiculous candles. When they finished the last bar of the song he took a deep breath and blew them out.

One stayed lit, though. Three attempts to blow it out didn't work, either. He looked up at Jesse with narrowed but playful eyes, then licked his thumb and forefinger to snuff it out.

"You jerks," he said fondly.

Jesse laughed, leaning his forearms against the back of a chair and looking down at the two of them. They were going on very little sleep and had absolutely nothing exciting planned for the day, but he couldn't think of being anywhere else.

"So what's on the docket, birthday boy?"

Claire plucked the colorful candles out from their icing bed and set them to the side, then brought a green, blue, and white sugar coated finger to her lips. "Meeting the family, I hear." She caught a bit of icing from her thumb, and looked up at Ben. "We picked up some ribs for birthday-barbecuing-hope that's okay."

Ben's eyes refocused from Claire's mouth to her eyes. "Wha- oh. Yeah, sure," he said, nodding away. "Krys is bouncing off the walls waiting, and I told her to tell her dad to get the coals started. That should give us about 30 minutes to get ready. That enough time?" He turned to look over his shoulder at Jesse.

"Hey, we've already been out today. You're the one who has to get your ass moving."

"Yup, s'all you," Claire agreed. Ben looked a little sheepish.

"Oh yeah." He paused long enough to drag his finger through the frosting, then put it on the end of Claire's nose and grinned at her. "I'll go get a shower, then. Out inna bit. You guys have some cake if you want." Claire's nose scrunched, a hand quickly shot to rid the tip of icing, but she was still smiling. She sucked the sugar from two knuckles worth of her finger, and winked at him.

Jesse didn't need to be told twice. He was instantly up, grabbing a knife and paper plates.

It wasn't a big gathering, which Ben was secretly glad for. His biological grandparents were currently summering in Florida, and Matt's parents were more doting on Krysta anyway, so that only left his mom, step-dad, sister, and his two friends. Krysta was currently bouncing away on the trampoline. Ben was staring at the pool and seriously considering changing into trunks to get in. It'd been a long time since he'd swam, and he definitely hadn't had the chance back at the Dells.

As he settled back and waited for the food to be finished, his mom kept bringing the phone out to him. At least four of his friends from high school had called to wish him a happy birthday, having had some sort of clue-in that he'd be around Arcadia that year. Ben guessed it was mostly his mother's doing. She could be really crafty when she wanted to be. In fact, he was a little surprised she hadn't tried to orchestrate some sort of surprise party, but he had a feeling the only reason she hadn't was because he hadn't given her a definite time.

"You know you should still have some trunks in your room," Lisa noticed the deliberating look her son cast toward the pool. She tucked the cordless in her back pocket when he handed it to her, then leaned on the edge of the picnic table next to him, her thumbs hooked on her front pockets.

She looked Ben over from that higher angle, instinctively scanning for any hint of injury or need. Having him home _any time_ was bittersweet, but the added bonus of his birthday thickened her natural, desperate desire to keep him close and safe. It was a need she'd kept quiet - _relatively_ quiet - in the last couple years, but she still felt it with an acute sharpness.

Ben frowned thoughtfully, looking over at where his friends were mulling about. Finding trunks wasn't really a problem when Jesse could make a pair for him out of thin air, but he had a feeling his mother might notice.

"Yeah, okay," he said, carefully easing out of the patio chair. "How much longer 'til the meat's done, d'you know?"

"Mm, 'bout an hour?" she answered, squinting into the glare toward her husband and the grill. "But we could throw some burgers or dogs on if you're hungry?"

"That'd be great," he said with a quick smile. Aside from the cake, they hadn't really had any breakfast. He gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek. "Back inna sec."

Claire had been laughing with Krysta by the trampoline, admittedly finding herself a little dizzy as the girl flipped expert somersaults and back-flips in the air.

"I dunno... Looks pretty hard," the blond hunter faked a dubious look , but it melted fast into a grin. "Think you'd put me to shame."

"I won't do any tricks while you're up here, promise!" the girl said, clearly intent on getting a partner. "You could even just sit and I could bounce you." Claire smiled brightly, and gave her pony tail a tug to tighten it.

"Now _that_, I can do." She climbed up after slipping off her shoes and planted herself Indian Style in the center of the mesh, hugging her knees. Ben's little sister had his bright hazel eyes, even if the rest of her looked like a pretty mash-up of his mom and step-father. She was a firecracker, too-something Claire noticed when she spied the girl haggling her brother for presents brought home from all the places he'd been. She grinned up at Krys, making it a point to wince. "Don't step on me; I bruise easy."

"I won't!" Krysta chirped, taking a few good steps away from where Claire sat before grinning sudden and wide. Without further words, she proceeded to jump hard and high on the trampoline, using a surprising amount of strength for each bounce, which sent Claire-clutching her knees close to her chest, with her chin tucked in tight-higher and higher on the rebound, complete with a few awkward and delighted squeals. Claire was an only child who'd always been a little bit on the outside of social circles since she was thirteen. Krysta had effectively taken her back to age nine.

Not too far away, Jesse left Matt at the barbecue and headed over to the lone Lisa. "Where'd the birthday boy run off to?" he asked with an easy smile.

Lisa took a sip from her lemonade, one hand resting on the back of the chair Ben had vacated. "Up to change into some swimtrunks. It's a nice enough day for it." Her eyes studied his face for a moment, taking in his features. Something unreadable passed over her eyes, then she looked over to where her daughter and Claire continued to bounce away on the trampoline.

"So you're hunters, too?"

"Claire and Ben for longer than I've been, but yes," he said, a little amused that he was honestly putting himself in that group. "Your son definitely has a few tricks up his sleeve that I've been lucky to learn. Though if I hadn't been told different, I would have thought you were his sister, not his mother."

Lisa's lips quirked and she turned her eyes back to Jesse again. After another sip of lemonade, she chuckled. "Too bad for you, right?" she said, her brows arching at him slightly.

That got a laugh, and a little blush. "Yeah, I'm all out of luck. Krysta's just a kid, you're married, Claire's with Ben. My pool of options is looking pretty dry."

Lisa's eyes widened at the last part of his sentence, her gaze once more gravitating to the blonde. Her lips parted and she took a breath to speak, but Ben's sudden return interrupted her thoughts.

"This jerk giving you trouble, Mom?" he asked, making a show of cracking his knuckles.

"Hey now, I don't need to get beat up any more for that. Your mom's got a mean left hook," Jesse said, making a show of adjusting his jaw.

Lisa's smile turned to a smirk as she looked back at her son, who more than towered over her now. "It's possible he's giving me a _little_ trouble," she said, her eyes flicking off to the right. Ben suddenly grinned.

"Only one thing to do about that, then," Ben said, quickly looping an arm around Jesse's middle and bodily dragging him toward the poolside, catching the attention of just about everyone out on the patio, including Claire and Krysta. The blonde flailed a little to catch her balance on the trampoline, only to be knocked hard by a taller-than-normal twelve year old girl. They both spilled to their sides-Krysta's laughter cut with a snort.

"Toss'im in!" Ben's sister shouted, and sent Claire a wild, happy grin. Claire chortled, shaking her head and tucking loose hair behind her ears, but she stayed otherwise quiet.

"Why is no one ever on my side?" Jesse cried in dismay through his laughter. He squirmed and jerked in Ben's grip, but still finding himself closer and closer to the water's edge. Pulling his wallet from his pocket and tossing it on the grass with a grin, he made a decision: "Well then I'm taking you with me!"

Grabbing Ben's arms tight around him, he dove, taking them both into the water. Ben barely had a chance to suck in a breath before the world went silent and he was suddenly in Jesse's inescapable clutches. Even under water, the man had a grip like a vice, and it took a few moments of wrestling him before their heads both finally broke the surface. Ben, of course, wasn't as bothered by being pulled in given he had already changed, but he erupted in laughter at the knowledge that Jesse was now temporarily drenched. Everyone around the backyard laughed and cheered with amusement. Everyone but Claire, though her expression was still warm.

"You wore me out, kiddo," she mumbled pleasantly to Krysta and hopped down from the springs.

As the boys started climbing out, Lisa came up to the pool's edge and smirked down at Jesse. "Ben'll show you where the dryer is and get you a change of clothes-" she turned her eyes to her son, "-but don't go tracking water through the whole house. Get him a towel."

"Yes, Mom," Ben said diligently.

Still grinning, Jesse followed after, snagging up his wallet before waiting at the door for Ben to come back with a towel. He patted down a bit before entering and promptly stripping out of his wet t-shirt. Then he reached forward and gave Ben's nipple a sharp twist. "Ass."

Ben yelped, then promptly through an arm around his neck and brought him down into a headlock as he lead him into the house.

"Bitch."

Jesse squirmed a moment then decided to take the Claire-way out, grabbing Ben's leg and pulling it out from under him. Ben nearly stumbled backward flat on his ass, but he kept his arm locked and took Jesse down with him. The two went sprawling on the hardwood, but Ben just laughed.

Jesse's ass hit with a wet slap. "Mate, your mum is so gonna kill you," he teased. "If I don't get there first. Got any idea how hard it is to take off wet jeans?" He punctuated this by going for Ben's gut, trying to tickle his way free. Ben let go and squirmed away, still laughing.

"That's what you get for hitting on my mother," he retorted, smiling to show he wasn't too offended. "God, I leave for five minutes. You have no shame."

"Do _either_ of you?" Claire was standing under the archway between the living room and kitchen, one shoulder pressed on the wall, and an open laptop on one arm. She'd gone in right after the pool escapade to check a few inquiry emails sent out that morning, as well as to get something with _a lot_ of caffeine. Her lips quirked, but she still looked tired-her eyes switching back and forth between them in their turn. They lingered on Ben.

"That doesn't hurt?" she asked with a lifted brow, her tone was an odd mix of curiosity, hopefulness, and a trace of suspicion.

"I'll live," Ben said, pushing up off the floor and Jesse. "His squishy ass cushioned my fall."

"Yeah, you wish you had my ass," Jesse said, grunting as Ben pushed off him. He got to his feet, patting his pockets. "Better get outta these wet jeans. You're welcome to give me a hand, Claire," he added, giving her a wink. The dimple on the end of Claire's smirk deepened, and her eyes stayed on Jesse's, matching the playful glint-the same that ticked to Ben right behind his shoulder. The coffee she had started brewing might be a little warm for her tastes, now that she thought about it-it'd only add to the flush.

"Careful what you wish for," she snerked finally, and shut the laptop closed with a click. Claire set it on the kitchen counter.

"Aw, you know I like it when you get rough, baby," he teased before turning to the laundry room, closing the door behind him.

Ben slid up next to Claire, his damp arm slinging lightly around her hips as he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. His water-cooled lips felt like relief against the subtle burn under her skin. Claire leaned into it with a soft smile.

"Hey."

"Happy Birthday," she replied softly, just for him since they had a moment alone.

"Thank you," he said in a similar tone. His brows wagged up briefly. "I get a birthday kiss?" Claire's smile warmed considerably, and the heat filtered into her eyes. She brushed his cheek with hers, whispering close to his ear.

"Maybe more, if you're feeling up for it." Ben felt a rush of longing at her words and just barely held back the urge to press up into her. His sister was just outside, and his mom no doubt hovering around the door. There'd be time later. Nevertheless, her boldness certainly did the trick.

"Back at the hotel later?" he said, his hand drifting down the small of her back, his fingertips indenting the fabric and skin beneath. Claire's stomach tightened, affecting that one breath. She certainly liked the way he reacted to that tentative offer, spurring her to seek even more.

"Any time you want," she promised in a purr, but switched her focus from his eyes to the closed laundry door, hoping her expression was clear. She didn't want to put Jesse out. She'd leave it up to Ben, what he wanted to do.

Ben knew what the brief look meant, and it made him think back to Jesse's words the night before. Jesse _wanted_ them to hook up, at least a little. Hell, his arrangement of the blonde back in Madison had been enough of a clue. It was a strange thing, having a friend root for him, especially given the fact that Jesse was flirting with Claire any chance he got. Ben chewed his lower lip viciously with a sudden and invasive thought.

"He can watch, for all I care," he said against her lips. "It's my birthday. I'm allowed one night with you before he's all yours again."

That brought out Claire's full, warm-honey smile. Her fingertips tingled with a subtle electricity that hadn't been there fifteen minutes ago, and likely wouldn't go away any time soon.

"It's your day." She pressed his lips in a slow, very restrained kiss, spiced by a hungry sound in the back of her throat. Times like this, as ironic as it was, she thanked God for crossing their paths. She wasn't thinking of an escaped demon, a handful of missing persons, or seeing the shape of her father. Ben took it all away. His free hand slid up into her hair, tangling in the silken threads of it, thankful for the cover of the kitchen counter as he finally succumbed to the urge to press into her. The sound of the laundry room door opening cut the kiss short however, but he didn't pull away; he just embraced her instead.

"Ugh, get a room," Jesse said as he came out, the towel around his waist, the hum of the dryer behind him. "Speaking of, which way to your room, mate, so I can get decent?"

"Like hell I'm letting you in my room alone," Ben said against Claire's neck, finally pulling back to look over at his friend with a half smirk. "C'mon, you two. Might as well give you the awkward tour."

"Nice. Never done a tour without pants," Jesse said, following along, though his eyes lingered on the close proximity of Ben and Claire.

Ben lead the way down the hall and up the stairs. All along the walls there were pictures, each two or three steps acting as a few years. On the left were pictures of Krysta, and on the right was the birthday boy himself. A lot of them were sports pictures, but midway through there was a family portrait taken when he was about 11-years-old: It was of Ben, his mother, and a very familiar brown haired, hazel eyed, smirking man.

Jesse froze there, staring. He'd seen that same man when he was 11. His stomach turned to ice. From the portrait pose, there wasn't much point in asking who the man was. His father. Dean Winchester was Ben's father.

Ben paused at the top of the stairs when he noticed one distinct lack of footsteps. "Hey, y'comin' or what?"

That jolted Jesse out of it. "Yeah," he said, heading up the stairs. "Just wondering why your mum gave you such crap haircuts."

He couldn't say the real reason. Who knew how much his father had told Ben about everything he'd done, and if he'd ever mentioned meeting Jesse, son of a demon. It wasn't a risk he wanted to take.

"I've seen worse," Claire injected pleasantly over her shoulder with a not-so-discreet pinch to the back of Ben's thigh, then stepped a bit to the side so Jesse could catch up. Ben just barely resisted the urge to swat her on the ass as the three of them stepped inside.

It was clear that Lisa hadn't allowed anyone to touch Ben's room since he left it. Much of the room reflected a typical high school teenaged boy, but one wall had been devoted to all the hobbies of his earlier youth. There was a double bed pressed against the far facing wall closest to the window, an oak dresser with its top acting as a trophy display, and a slightly-sagging bookcase filled with personal effects, comics, DVDs and books. Ben immediately pulled open a few drawers, picking out clothes he figured were close to Jesse's size.

"You can resize them if you need to," Ben said conversationally. "If you can do that, I mean. Can you?"

Jesse took the clothes but he was a bit distracted looking around the room. So many pieces of Ben, scattered around the room, waiting to be poked at. "Should be alright. Don't want to raise your mum's suspicions by having them fit too good, 'cause I'll know she'll be checking out my ass."

"You wish," Ben countered, balling up the shirt he'd picked out and throwing it at him. It would be so strange, seeing Jesse in his clothes. Strange and... oddly enticing. Ben tried to shove that thought down. "Bathroom's down the hall. Don't go snooping."

"'Course I wouldn't go snooping to find out what toys your mum and stepdad use," Jesse said lightly before dashing out of the room.

The greatest thing about being at a bar on a birthday was the free drinks. Some of the joy in it was sorta gone given the fact that they were paying with monopoly money for the rest and Jesse could turn water into Scotch without even breaking a sweat, but Ben loved the atmosphere of a bar on his birthday. Everyone was smiling and wishing him well. The only thing that made it better was being with his two favorite people in the world.

"You guys are awesome," he said, his voice jovial from his fourth shot and third beer. "I mean it. I dunno where in the world I'd be if it warn't for you."

"Eaten by vampires," Jesse said with a sagely nod. "And I'da been chopped up by ghosts."

"Good point," Claire concurred from her seat _on_ the bar between their two stools, though her voice cut off at the end thanks to needing to force the third shot of tequila down her throat. She'd tried to speak too soon.

Ben hushed them both by putting his fingers against their lips, though his aim was a little off and the movement a little sloppy. "No monsters tonight. Juss' us, 'kay? 'N I wanna talk 'bout how much I love you guys."

Jesse bit fondly at the finger so near his mouth before reaching over, his hand cupping the back of Ben's neck. "Aw, we love you, too, Benny, y'lil' ass." Claire lazily smiled her agreement, and caught Ben's poor aim with her hand, lacing their fingers.

The nip was enough to send a strange warmth through Ben that the rum didn't reach, and Claire's gentle touch only stoked it further. He had difficulty spanning his gaze between the two of them, but every part of him radiated happiness and pleasure. He grinned foolishly.

"So what's my present, hey?" he asked. His sister and mother had gotten him gifts, but Jesse and Claire still hadn't given him anything aside from the cake that morning. "I know ya got me somefin'. What izzit?"

"Well Imma bet Claire's got a birthday spankin' all rarin' to go for you, eh Claire?" Jesse said, his hand resting comfortably on her knee. She looked at him, her smile all kinds of warm for more reasons than just the booze in her system-though it did help.

"Ohyeah, _spankins_ all around." A soft ribbon of laughter wove into Claire's voice. She met their eyes with a languid warmth before searching for her next shot, sitting next to her hip on the bar. "Spankins for er'rybody," she rambled, plucking the José in two fingers and lifting it to Ben's lips. He drank it without hesitation. "Everybody wants a spankin'."

"Even you?" Jesse tilted his head playfully, though there was a hunger in his eyes and his mouth felt dry. His hand traveled a little higher up Claire's leg. "Why? You been a bad girl?" She met that look in his eyes with a note of drunk surprise, followed very quickly by a short laugh and a cayenne-honey voice. She flashed teeth in her grin as she spoke.

"Shhh, don'tell my priest," she secreted to them both. Claire's dogma was often overshadowed by her deep-rooted personality when booze was involved. Her faith was, for lack of a better word, _complicated_.

Ben watched the exchange with mounting lust, his eyes two seconds too slow but still catching the movement of Jesse's hand on Claire's thigh. Whether or not he was completely aware of it, Jesse's hand had also stayed on his neck and his thumb had started a slow-back-and-forth travel against the skin. Something inside him hummed with anticipation through the fog the liquor left. _This_ was what he wanted. His hand covered Jesse's on Claire's leg, fingers threading through the spaces, forcing it higher.

"I think..." he said in a low voice almost lost in the noise of the bar patrons and the music. "I know what my present is."

The feeling had been there before, but watching Ben and Jesse's joined hands, Claire finally _welcomed_ the hard flutter in the center of her chest. Sober, she would've identified it as nervousness, but alcohol had a way of making her a much more _honest_ woman. Claire's brows lifted slowly over a subtle smile, going as high as they could.

Her wide blue eyes lingered on Ben when her leg slipped between his knees, then slid to Jesse when the other did the same between _his_.

Jesse hissed in a breath, the touch like a wave of sobriety. His overly large eyes landed on Claire, then Ben, then on their hands entwined on her thigh. Oh. He was drunk. He was really drunk and had lost control and let his flirting run wild, and now he had to undo the damage. No matter how his body throbbed in protest.

He pulled his hands back from them, easing back his stool. "I'm- I better go'n get air or somethin', feelin' dizzy."

Despite being drunk, Ben was still a great deal quick on his feet, and before Jesse got too far away he grabbed the other man by the collar of his shirt, pulling him in sharply, his mouth crashing into his. Back on the bar, Claire's eyes went as wide as saucers, a mirror of Jesse's.

For a moment, Jesse stood frozen. Then, ever so minutely, his lips moved against Ben's, fitting so perfectly that it made his knees go to water. It would be so easy, to let his body take over, to go wherever Ben took him. Too easy. Jesse knew what was going on, and he knew what the consequences would be. Forcing someone to want you was wrong, even if they didn't know it.

He pulled back, his hands easing Ben's away from his collar. "Wrong mouth, dummy," he said with a small smile before turning Ben around and giving him a little push towards Claire. Then he headed for the door.

Ben looked at Claire with a bit of confusion, the booze making his head feel heavy and full of cotton, but knowing something was wrong with his friend. Every part of him still ached with wanting him - with wanting them both. Hadn't that been the direction they were all gravitating towards?

"Go after 'im, wouldja?" he said to Claire, his hands going to her slim hips to tug her off the bar. "I'll pay'n be out inna minute."

Claire's boots hit the bar floor with a jarring vibration that physically kicked her brain back into functioning. She'd heard everything that was said, but the image of the two of them very suddenly kissing - and the sharp stab of desire that came with it - effectively overshadowed everything else, until that moment, as she saw Jesse slip out the door. It took a moment for her body to catch up to her brain, but the focus finally came back to her eyes. She quickly kissed Ben, then grabbed her bag on the stool, heading out into the balmy spring night.

He hadn't gone more than five paces, and was slouched against the brick of the building, a flare of gold across his face from sparking a cigarette. She sidled up to him. Jesse tensed, focusing his gaze elsewhere.

"Too much, too soon?" she asked, inwardly aiming the question at herself-and felt her body tighten in a definite _no_. This was _completely_ new territory for Claire, and the raw honesty was clear in her voice, but so was the conviction.

"He's drunk," he said quietly. "_You're_ drunk, _I'm_ drunk. This isn't the kind of thing you wanna do when you don't know what you're doin'."

Claire leaned her shoulder on the wall next to his, her hands pushed in her front pockets, for a few reasons. They felt twitchy because of her current restraint. She wanted to put them on him, but boundaries were boundaries; pushing them might not be the wisest thing at the moment.

"Yeah, we're all a lil'toasted," she agreed with a small smile, chancing to put her chin on his shoulder, lifting her brows and flashing a little teeth when he looked at her. "Not sayin' anyone should be drivin' or operate a crane, but we're not shitfaced." _Just... unencumbered?_ Claire's thoughts added with a question. She felt like her stomach would burst in a cloud of butterflies, how surprisingly sure she was about the whole thing. It was the only thing that made sense out of the whole emotional shit storm between the three of them.

Still, the worried look in Jesse's eyes sobered her quick. She kissed his shoulder, sending a shiver through him, before she went back to leaning on it. "But we're still gonna be here, if you don't want this. I promise."

His throat felt like it was closing up and he took a deep drag on his cigarette. She didn't sound all need and desperation, but maybe that's because that's what he wanted. He wanted to hear that they truly wanted this, and so that's what he was getting. "That's not what I'm afraid of, but thanks," he said honestly. He took a deep breath. "I just... don't think it'd be a good idea. Not tonight. Maybe another time."

Ben finally came out of the bar, but his face was chalk white and he was all but sprinting. Due to his inebriation he started to stumble, but years hunting honed his reflexes enough that he managed to recover.

"Sober me up," Ben said to Jesse, panicked. "Please, mindwhammy me, I need to be sober now."

Jesse's stomach sank. It sounded like he'd sobered in one respect, at least. He put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Hey mate, don't worry about it. 'S your birthday, you were partyin', we all do those kind of things. We're good."

"No, Jess-" Claire's eyes were on Ben from the moment he burst out of the bar. That wasn't embarrassment or moodiness. That wasn't _anything_ Ben should've been feeling because of what just happened in the bar-good or bad. She stood up straight, and felt her gut twist.

"Fucking _DO IT_; I gotta drive _NOW!_" Ben said shrilly. "I gotta go! I gotta go! Fuck, _please!_"

Jesse's heart went from zero to panic. "It doesn't- Shit, be sober!" he shouted before biting his lip. He'd always just used coffee but Ben didn't seem to have any time to wait.

But just like the attempt at healing him, nothing happened. Ben waited all of five seconds before pulling out his phone, dialing a number he knew from memory.

"Hello, hi," he nearly yelled into the phone. "I need an immediate pick-up at Donovan's on West Main. Yes. St. Vincent Mercy Hospital. How long?" His whole body was shaking. "Can you get here any faster? No, yeah. Yes. I under- Thank you." Ben ended the call and bent down into a crouch, hands coming up over his head. "Oh god, oh god, oh god-"

Claire was right there with him, feeling every nerve ending in her body buzz with a heated, undirected panic, but she reigned it in as much as possible-for one purpose. "Ben..." Her voice cracked a bit as her hands sought the sides of his face so he'd look at her. "Baby, you need to tell me what's going on."

Ben had started to hyperventilate, and at the end of Claire's sentence he pulled away sharply, getting to the curb before throwing up hard.

"Shit," Jesse breathed, standing there feeling helpless and useless. Then he bolted for the bar door. "I'm gonna get coffee!"

"Find someone who'll drive us to the hospital-!" Claire shot over her shoulder, already tending to Ben. She could feel his muscles quake by the hand on his back, put there on pure instinct.

When the vomiting finally stopped Ben went straight into sobbing, his wails bordering on tormented. "Please, God! Please! I'll never ask for anything, never again, just please! Don't take her away from me! Please!"

The sound was soul-splitting, forcing Claire to swallow something hard and spined that formed at the top of her throat. She was on the edge herself, but Ben had obviously already gone past it-which meant she had to stay cool. There was no other option, no matter _what_ it was that had him like this.

"_Look at me_, Benjamen," she was in front of him, hating herself for the tone she had to use; a forced calm that felt poisoned in her mouth. "Who's at the hospital."

"My mom," Ben cried. "The house- the house caught fire, and mom- my mom-"

Claire's blood ran a little cold. If it weren't for the distinct slowness in her physical reactions, she would've sworn she was stone sober after those words. Hardly breathing, she pulled him in close, and gently caught his tears with her palm.

"We're gonna get there," she whispered, shakily. A million thoughts in her head plying for her attention, but they all could wait, as her damp hand pushed his hair back, naturally trying to sooth him. "It'll be okay. We'll make it okay..."

Jesse ran back out, drinking deeply from a thermos. "Here," he said, holding it out awkwardly. He didn't know what was going on, but he knew what Ben needed. "You drink, I'll drive. Just tell me where."

* * *

><p>Both Ben and his step-father were wrecks, sitting on either side of an unconscious Lisa, who was wrapped in several layers of gauze and plugged into life support. Matt hadn't been able to explain what happened in his current state, so it had been up to the police officer on duty to tell them what had happened.<p>

The fire department had yet to figure out the cause of the fire, but it was assumed that a gas line had ruptured. Matt had been on duty at the hospital the time.

They hadn't found Krysta.

The officer reassured Ben that that didn't mean she was in the house at the time of the fire. Matt was unaware, but it could have very well been possible that she was at a friend's house or something. There was still room to hope, so long as they managed to get through to her on her cellphone. Some news was bound to surface soon.

Claire leaned heavily back against the hallway wall next to Jesse, just outside of Lisa's room. Her knees pulled up to her chest to stay out of the way of those coming and going, but also as a measure of comfort. It kept her focused, as did watching Ben's cell phone as she idly turned it between her fingertips, resting on her knees. Every once in a while, she'd will the thing to ring-for Ben's little sister's name to pop up on the tiny screen. The alcohol was almost completely gone from her system, or so it felt. Needless to say, she wouldn't be drinking for a while.

Jesse kept shifting from sitting to standing and back again, unable to keep still. He'd never done this kind of thing, never dealt with people who were going through something like what Ben was. He didn't know what to do; there was nothing to do.

"I wish I could heal," he said quietly.

Claire looked up at him with sympathy, and sighed through her words. "I wish I could, too."

She gave his hand a little tug so he'd sit next to her again; the pacing was not helping her own edgy nerves, but she wouldn't be too insistent about it. "Best thing is for us to just be here." Like either of them would be anywhere else.

Jesse sat hard next to her, but still couldn't stay still. He plucked the cellphone from her hands so he could have something to fidget with. "Have you-" He stopped, realizing it was a personal question. That he'd almost asked the woman he came close to having a threesome with. Maybe personal was a good thing. "Did you go through something like this?"

Claire's lips pressed, then fell into a thoughtful frown. Her pause reflected the memories that flashed behind her eyes, whether she liked it or not. Finally, she blinked and shook her head lightly.

"Mom was dead when I found her."

Jesse's face scrunched in sympathy and he took her hand in his on instinct. Her fingers laced between his larger ones and squeezed, content to stay there.

They both jumped as the phone suddenly buzzed, then started to ring. It was the same ring tone from that morning; Krysta's ringtone. It passed through Jesse's mind that he should grab Ben, but the phone could stop ringing by then.

"Hello, Krysta? It's Jesse, Ben's friend," he answered, talking faster than normal. Claire watched him hopefully.

"_Well isn't this a surprise._"

Jesse's face went pale. It didn't matter that they'd only talked briefly before; Jesse's recognition ran all the way to his gut. "You bitch," he breathed. Confusion filtered through Claire's gaze, followed quickly by the stone-cold notion of what could be on the other line to make Jesse's demeanor shift so severely.

"_Now that's not a very nice thing to say to someone who's in charge of your friend's sister's life, Jesse. I have feelings, too._"

"Don't," Jesse said, swallowing hard. "Please. Just tell me what to do."

High, feminine laughter could be heard from the phone's earpiece. "_Not so easy to tell me what to do when you can't see me, is it? I rather like this role reversal. We should do it more often._"

"Whatever you want. Just let the girl go," Jesse said, trying hard to keep his voice low. His stomach writhed. _It's my fault. She did this to get to me._

"_Now where's the fun in that?_" The demon on the other end paused briefly. "_I'll tell you what. I'll give you and the Wonder Twins five days to find me, starting midnight tonight. I'll even give you a hint as to where I am. But if you're late, even by a second, her life is forfeit._"

Jesse jaw clenched. He wanted to scream. "Why? I'll give you everything; why do this to some kid?"

"_Oh, sweetheart,_" she cooed. "_You think you're the only one I'm after?_" She paused again. "_And you've got a three hour head start, look how charitable I'm being? We're in Maine. Remember: five days, starting midnight tonight. Oh, and tell Benji happy birthday from me._"

Then the call ended.

* * *

><p>The air in the hospital hallway had shifted from heavy to nearly crushing. Claire felt a vaguely familiar pressure on her lungs not unlike when she was drowning, after Jesse relayed the cryptic game the demon from Dekalb was setting them to in exchange for the life of Ben's little sister.<p>

She felt every footstep vibrate like a tuning fork uncomfortably up her spine as she strayed a few doors down from where the Lisa Carter lay between the two men in her life, one whom Claire honestly would live and die for, even in the short time of knowing him. This wasn't just bad-this had the potential to crush him completely. She could not-would not-let that happen.

She'd sent Jesse to jump to the hotel to gather their things and bring the GTO, but she hadn't told Ben how dire the situation had truly been yet. It could wait the short time between now and when Jesse came back to collect them, so they could be on their way. The thought had crossed Claire's mind to seek out Krysta with just Jesse, knowing how emotionally shredded Ben would be when he heard the news. She and Jesse would tear the world apart to preserve their friend's family, and now she understood why. It was the same reason why she knew she couldn't fight Ben to stay here with his mother while his sister was in danger. It was the reason why she ducked into an empty hospital room, making sure no one saw her, and shut the door.

The silence was deafening in this place, and Claire found it difficult to breathe. Her eyes stung from empathy tears she hadn't shed, and likely wouldn't until this was resolved. She kept her emotions carefully lidded, for necessities sake, and thought back to the other night outside the dance party.

_Kadiel... please find me._

She'd never called to the angel that'd come to her after her mother's death. She had no idea if simply calling for her would do anything besides drop her hope another notch, but thinking she'd seen her father the other night had to be tied in with this maelstrom somehow. She just hoped to God that she was listening.

There was a distant sound not too unlike a bird flapping its wings and landing on a windowsill, except birds didn't cause goosebumps to rise rapidly all over Claire's skin. When she turned the angel stood nearby the window, her posture rigid yet elegantly poised. Her face was a neutral mask draped in dark brown hair.

"You summoned me, Claire Novak?"

Claire fought an internal battle, rendering her speechless for a few moments as her gaze remained locked on the vessel she hadn't seen in almost ten years. The memories that came with Kadiel hit her like a wrecking ball, but with a little effort, Claire forced her composure.

"Did I see my father the other night?" she managed to finally utter as she fought for control of her emotions. _Stay on track. Not much time._

Kadiel looked at her with a piercing gaze, studying her up and down in a matter of moments.

"No," she said at last.

The answer threw Claire off balance, so much so that her eyelids fluttered, forcing her gaze away.

"I had hoped that you were in better company, but I understand that it brings you happiness." She paused a beat. "Why did you summon me?"

Claire's eyes slitted on pure reaction. "What's wrong with my co-" she stopped herself short, pressing her lips into a thin line. She inhaled slowly, and started over. "Something big is going down—we saw the tip of it back in Dekalb, but it followed us here-"

"Yes, I know," the angel interrupted, her voice clear and strong like a bell. "We're in the process of tracking that demon. It's proving to be much more difficult that we realized. She's in the process of collecting Vessels, but we aren't sure why yet. She's very crafty. Which is why you should be traveling with other companions. The younger man is a Vessel."

_Ben is a Vessel?_ was Claire's first thought, followed instantly by the rest of what the angel informed her. That was the connection. That was why the bitch had taken Krysta. Claire shut her eyes for a second. Processing everything amid the chaos of her current emotions was proving to be difficult. But once she forced the cloud to settle, the clarity was almost painful.

Claire inhaled deeply as she opened her eyes. "She took Ben's sister to Maine."

Kadiel frowned silently, then said in an even voice: "I'm sure you're aware that I can't provide you with information on your mission, Claire. I can offer guidance, nothing more. So I'll ask again: why did you summon me?"

Claire's jaw set like an anvil, but only momentarily. She had to keep reminding herself that they were on a very strict time limit. "I need something from you-Castiel put a sigil on me: I want it put on Ben's family."

Kadiel looked at her for a moment, brown eyes scanning her blue ones before her lips thinned into a line.

"Castiel was..." she said quietly, then dropped her eyes for a moment before looking up to her again. "It is not within my power to do such a thing without first asking my superiors. I am only responsible over-"

"Then _ask them_." Claire injected quickly. Her voice was more desperate than it was harsh.

"I can't do that either," Kadiel admonished. "_You_ are my charge."

The look on Claire's face very clearly conveyed how much sense she thought the angel's argument made, which was very little. "So what? Where're _their_ guardians, then? I'll drag _them_ down here if I have to." She took a step forward while gesturing hard toward the wall that separated them from Lisa Carter's room. "_Those people_ had nothing to do with all this-they needed to be _protected_."

Though no emotion reflected in Kadiel's expression, her eyes flashed. "I cannot answer for my brothers and sisters, Claire Novak. And I am not your watchdog, meant to keep your enemies at bay. I am here when I must be here." She paused, her head tilting slightly. "You should know how angels work. I shouldn't have to be explaining this to you."

Claire's eyes narrowed, pushed down to scathing slits under her brows. "Just _how_ am I supposed to know _all_ about how you work? Faith isn't an exact science, you know..." Riled, she was, but she was trying her best to bite back her emotions. She shifted weight from foot to foot, and pushed her hand through her hair, looking to the ceiling as if it had the answer.

"Perhaps that is a good thing." The angel went silent again, her hands sliding into the pockets of her long tweed coat. "I can't offer your friends protection," she said, then prompted: " Ask me something else."

Claire looked back down from the fluorescent lights, which were off.

Her eyes locked with the other woman-who hadn't been a woman in God only knows how long. Her nostrils flared with a hard breath that refused to wait patiently in the back of her throat, and Claire set her hands on the flare of her hips.

After a moment of silence, she looked down at her own feet, shaking her head against the emotions that kept trying to cloud her thoughts. She thought of Ben in the next room, wound tight enough to break, sitting in the same position she had been years ago-on the brink of losing absolutely everything. The projection in her mind was almost too hard to take.

"Heal his mother, then... _please_."

Again, Kadiel was quiet. When Claire looked up she found the angel looking off to the side, her eyes unfocused and her fingers pressed against her left temple. After a moment she turned her head back to Claire again.

"It will be done."

A wave of relief washed across Claire's eyes, which closed almost immediately. She felt as though she'd just released a muscle that'd been clenched and burning for hours. "Thank you..."

The only sound that reached her ears after that was the distant flap of wings.

* * *

><p>Already operating on too little sleep, his anxiety and fear for his mother sapped whatever energy Ben had left. He'd stared at her unconscious form for hours, hoping that she would wake up, praying with every fiber of his being that he at least get the chance to say goodbye. The day had been so perfect; for it to end this way would be nothing short of devastating for him.<p>

Matt had refused to leave her side either, and nether man had said much of anything. When Ben finally fell asleep Matt stood, getting a spare blanket to drape around him. With his house in ruins and his daughter missing, Matt felt desperate and hopeless. The sleeping young man was his only tether. Once Ben was rested, he hoped to ask him to aid in the search.

Claire shadowed the room doorway just as Mr. Carter was covering Ben with a blanket. When he turned, she saw the skinned-raw pain in the older man's eyes, and it coiled something wretched in her spine. A sad, commiserative look passed over her features. She wanted to tell him that his wife would be alright, but the situation was more complicated than she had time to explain. First thing was first.

"You could use some coffee..." Claire started warmly, then tipped her head toward the hallway. "The Starbucks in the cafeteria closes in a few minutes."

Mr. Carter nodded and smiled faintly at her, but it didn't touch his eyes.

"Thank you for being here for him," he said quietly. "We were so glad to hear he wasn't alone anymore. Thank you." A pang tightened Claire's throat around her breath. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, but now wasn't the time. She simply inclined her head, respectfully, and patted his upper arm for support as he slipped by and out of the room.

Lisa was barely recognizable in her prison of bandages and tubes; Claire forced herself to keep her thoughts centered. Kadiel would make her whole. Right now, her attention needed to be with her son.

"Ben," she called to him softly, couched at his side, pushing his hair back from closed eyes. "Wake up, Baby..."

Ben stirred reluctantly, his face pinching briefly before he resettled in the chair. His eyes remained closed, but he sighed.

"Hey," he croaked out.

Claire breathed a shaky sigh. _Where do I start?_ Nothing she had to tell him could be taken easily.

"We gotta go, Ben..." her voice was still soft, as if she were trying not to wake the woman in the hospital bed, but for much more practical reasons. Ben's eyes snapped open in an instant, his face a mixture of surprise, panic, and betrayal.

"No... I can't-" he started, his voice cracking. "Claire, please." That look stabbed at her heart, but Claire pushed forward.

"The demon has Krysta."

He nearly knocked the chair over in his haste to stand up. "What?"

"Jesse'll be here with the car any minute-we're ready to find her," she started, her voice tight with restraint-Claire begged him with her eyes to stay calm, even though it may've been next to impossible. She had more to tell him. "I know why she's been taking people-why she did _this_: but we don't have a lot of time."

All the color drained out of Ben's face. There was nothing he could do for his mother, and it was killing him, but as the realization hit him he flushed with fury. The demon had set the house on fire, then taken Krysta. It had hurt them to hurt him.

He was going to make her suffer, if it was the last thing he did.

Ben turned to his mother's comatose form, finding her un-swathed hand and taking it firmly in his. When he spoke, his voice was barely coherent:

"Don't you dare die on me, Mom. I hafta go find Krysta, but I'll be back. I promise. You just hold on, you hear? Don't let the Reapers win."

"She'll be okay," Claire added from the foot of the bed, with a soft conviction that was far beyond simple comfort or speculation. She met Ben's eyes and held onto the gaze as hard as she could. "_I promise you._"

Ben gave her a wispy smile, then looked down at his mother again. Tears were back in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks as he bent down to kiss her hand.

"I love you, Mom. I'm so sorry about all of this, but I'll get her. Watch me." He cast his eyes around the room, his voice suddenly hard and firm.

"Don't you dare take her from me. I swear, I'll kill every one of you if you do. You let her stay. You let her, y'hear me?"

_They won't touch her_, Claire thought silently, but didn't infringe on Ben's moment. She was writing something on the small note pad on the hotel room table; a note for Lisa's husband, explaining shortly why they were gone, and also promising that his wife would be safe. She ended on a plea to call them the second anything changed with her condition when her phone started to buzz from her pocket. Jesse was waiting in the car at the front doors.

"C'mon," Claire said gently to Ben, taking his hand. "I've got a lot to tell you."


	15. Episode 8: Words I Never Said

Claire'd lost track of how much - or how _little_ - sleep she'd had in the last few days. With everything that'd happened, the only thing that separated the days was the light and darkness, but even then, she'd lost count. The only thing keeping her conscious was the subliminal buzz of necessity: Ben's sister needed finding. They were short on time, not just sleep...

But it'd do no one any good if they drove off the wooded back road into a tree or a fence. The blue lights on the dash reminded her that it was roughly four in the morning. Jesse was asleep in the back, and both her and Ben were obviously running on fumes.

She had difficulty staring past the ghost of her own reflection in the rest-area vending machine glass. A massive bottle of generic citrus soda condensing in her hand, the other pressed a random combination that dropped what looked like a bag of Funyuns down to the push-drawer. On closer inspection, the bag turned out to be Reeses Pieces.

_This diet's gonna kill me someday..._ she thought to herself, and cracked open the soda.

Ben was leaning against the car, looking very much like he was two seconds from falling asleep standing up. Everything inside him hurt, and the burning hatred in his chest felt like it was eating him alive. It killed him being away from his mother, and knowing that his sister had been a victim of his work was nothing short of devastating. He had never hated anything so intensely in his life than that day.

He kept playing with his phone, hoping for some word, some sort of sign, when suddenly it jumped in his hand and started ringing. He nearly dropped it in his haste to answer it.

"_Ben?_" Matt Carter's voice cracked through the speaker, sounding flustered and frantic at the hint of a pick-up, but no voice on the other end.

"Sorry, sorry," Ben said in a rush, bringing it up to his ear. "What's wrong? Is she okay?"

"_Yeah-_" Matt replied, cutting himself off; obviously having some difficulty with his words. "_Yes, she's awake now, and..._"

"And what?" Ben pressed, a hundred different emotions warring inside him for dominance. "Can I talk to her? _Is she okay?_"

"_She's with the doctors right now, but-Ben, it looks like she's perfectly fine._" Matt's own voice vibrated, baffled, grateful, but confused-and always with the undercurrent of worry about his daughter.

Ben felt his stomach bottom out. It took Matt calling out his name twice before he responded.

"How? You-" he sputtered. "You saw the burns, didn't you? When she came in? _How?_"

"_Yeah, I saw'em-_" There was a shaky breath on the other end of the line. "_She was the same when I fell asleep. I woke up an'she was-I mean, the burns, the collapsed lung, the broken bones; they're all gone._"

Ben stared into the empty space in front of him, his heart beating hard and fast. For the briefest moment, he felt hope rising inside him.

"Can I talk to her?" he asked in a small voice.

"_Hang on_," the line clicked when Matt put the hospital room phone on it's table, followed by distant voices. Several of them, muffled and in quick succession, abruptly ended by Lisa Carter's sharp crack to wait. The line picked up barely a second later.

"_Ben, Baby, are you okay?_"

Hearing his mother's voice somehow reduced him to 12-years-old again, and tears immediately welled in his eyes before spilling over.

"I'm fine," he said in a strained, high voice. "I'm- _Mom_, I was so scared-"

"_Don't you be scared for me,_" she attempted to sooth him. His mother's voice tightened to the same degree, pricked by emotion and instinct that couldn't be suppressed, yet she still overshadowed her own issues. There were more important things to worry about at the moment. "_We'll talk about me later. Just know we're going to Matt's parents' tonight and-would you just give me a second!_" The last bit directed away from the receiver before she returned.

"_Honey, I know what you're out doing-_" Lisa was obviously censoring her words for the ignorant people in the room with her.

"I'll get her back," Ben interrupted, his voice passionate. "I promise, Mom. Whatever it takes to get Krysta back, I'll do it." His face pinched. "Did you see the demon? Did she say anything to you?" There was an obvious pause on the other end, then Lisa's long sigh.

"_Nothing I could make sense of..._" Just as she trailed off, Ben's phone beeped in his ear with an incoming text message from his mother's phone. In quotes, it said:

'A kid for a kid for a kid'

Ben stared at the message for a moment, completely baffled before bringing the phone back to his ear.

"I don't know either," he admitted, hating the mystery almost as much as the event itself. "I-... Mom, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry about all of this. It's my fault-"

"_Stop it, Benjamen,_" she cut him off with more emotion in her voice than she could contain. "_You just keep yourself safe and come back with her._" She paused again, then continued with more breath in her voice. "_Matt and I will be perfectly fine. I promise you._" Lisa put a distinct emphasis on those last four words.

"Salt every door and window," Ben urged her emphatically. "And put down traps." He took a shaky breath. "I love you, Mom."

"_I love you too, Baby._" Lisa's voice edged on tears, but she fought them back with an almost miraculous strength. "_Call me every time you stop._"

"I will," he vowed. "I promise. Be safe, okay?"

Just hanging up was enough to bring tears to his eyes again, but this time they weren't in complete helplessness. It was a miracle. He had no idea how or why, but for the first time in his life he genuinely felt true and honest relief.

Claire had been standing at the front of the GTO for most of the one-sided conversation, silent as a pilgrim. She watched him press the 'end' button and dissolve into the sort of shuddering that came with the lift of a huge weight. She had her tongue caught between sharp teeth, debating on making her presence known or a continued silence.

"...see?" she finally said, meekly. Her tired eyes were watery, but held on to Claire's steady calm, deepened by every empathized emotion she had, watching him. Ben looked up at her through tear-blurred, red-rimmed eyes before closing the distance between them abruptly. His arms pressed her to him almost too fiercely, his whole body shaking with sobs.

Claire wrapped her arms around his shoulders and shushed him gently, completely happy to bear the vice in his strength, because of where it came from. Her eyes closed with her breath, buried into his hair, which she pushed back with a loving touch.

When Ben finally caught his breath again he pulled back, eyes searching her face, a trickle of fear finally slicing through him.

"How?" he asked breathlessly. The first and only thought that came rushing to his head was that she'd made a deal on his behalf, and it terrified him.

"I called an angel. Kadiel." she answered, almost weak, but still determined. How she'd been pushed to that level of desperation by the plight of someone else was a testament to how undeniable her feelings had become. Ben pressed his forehead into hers, his hands coming up on either side of her face as love and relief flooded him.

"Thank you," he breathed, finally ending the gap between them with a short, searing kiss. "Thank you."

The words stung her eyes with the same intensity that took a bit of her last, tired breaths away in the kiss. Seeing her father's form after more than a decade of absence, only for it to have been nothing had shaken her to the very core. Arguing with Kadiel had done even more damage, and learning the vague details of the shitstorm they had fallen into-Claire felt like her insides were raw and worn; scraped out and left to heal. But it was worth it. She'd do it again in a heartbeat.

His 'thankyous' were answered by a slower, but just as potent kiss from her; _you're welcome_ just didn't seem to cover it. But as much as she ached to stay wrapped in his arms until sleep or the Rapture finally took her, there were more pressing needs at hand.

"There's more," she alluded softly. She pressed her lips together, their brows still touching. "But we need to wake Jesse."

* * *

><p>The sea of people spread out farther than Jesse could see. A million bodies, a million faces, all turned towards him. Their eyes shone, attentive, admiring. Reverential. Waiting for him. It made him feel stronger, taller. He met every gaze with a steady, unwavering strength.<p>

"They're ready for their orders," came a voice from behind him. "They're ready for you to lead them into glory."

Jesse's back straightened, determination pulsing through him. There was no doubt the battle before them would be bloody, but victory was right in his hands.

"I'm so proud of you," the voice said, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder. "This is where you belong, leading the way into a new world order. This is what you were born to be."

Jesse turned to look up at the man behind him, the only one he felt more worthy to stand here than himself. He found himself staring as the road raced by just on the other side of the glass. He jerked back, looking around, finding Claire next to him, driving.

"Wha-what just happened?" he said, his heart racing.

Claire loosened her grip on his arm when he jarred awake, but her hand stayed there, the other on the wheel. She switched her eyes back and forth between the road and the faint blue dash-glow on Jesse's face-her own painted with a mild worry.

"You were dreaming. Didn't look pleasant, either."

"D-dreaming? I- no, I was somewhere else, it was-" He gave a shiver. It hadn't been pleasant; it had been amazing. Frighteningly so. "I was transported or something."

Claire made a confused, but skeptical face and shook her head. "Not that _I_ saw." She pulled her hand back after a gentle, reassuring squeeze, and set it on her own thigh. His words played over in her head. She understood the notion of thinking dreams were real-some of hers could be damn _vivid_-but there was just something about his tone that kept striking chords. A quick glance in the rear view mirror found Ben still sound asleep across the back seat. Claire wondered, automatically, if he was dreaming too.

"What did you see?" she asked softly, slumping back against the seat. She went back to driving with a couple of fingertips.

"There...there were all these people, standing, looking at me. Like some kind of...I don't know. It was...I don't know," he said, looking at her, then at the road. "That's never happened to me before. You think that was a dream?"

One of Claire's brows lifted as she glanced back at him. "You mean you've never _dreamed_?"

He looked over at her uncertainly, running a hand over his face. "No. But lots of people don't have dreams, right?"

Her brows pushed down over the bridge of her nose, but Claire didn't answer right away. Jesse was a special case, even if they didn't know the specifics. She guessed it wasn't impossible that he'd gone his whole life without dreaming. So what did that mean _this_ was?

"What else do you remember?" she finally said, skirting his question with one of her own.

He was hesitant, though he didn't know why. "There was a...someone else. Talking to me. He said they were ready for my orders." His face pinched in uncertainty while Claire's opened with a mild show of surprise.

"Your _orders_?" That was interesting. Also mildly disturbing at a base level that she didn't recognize consciously; it sent a shudder of instinct up her spine, which she interpreted into empathy. Even having had disturbing dreams all her life, some were just so far off the scary scale that they could be their own category of 'firsts.' She wasn't even considering that it had been anything but unpleasant for him.

She let her head loll along the edge of the bench seat toward him. "Definitely sounds like a dream to me."

"Oh," Jesse said, his voice tight. "How do you keep them from happening again?"

Claire just looked at him for a moment, caught somewhere between amusement and not being sure she heard him correctly. If it weren't for the subtle tension in his voice, she would've cut a short laugh. Thankfully, Claire focused on the child-like quality of the question, and found it oddly endearing.

"They just happen, sweetie," one shoulder shrugged-her eyes returned to the road, heavy. Something was still nagging the back of her thoughts about the whole thing, though. Something she couldn't put her finger on, but she was too tired to focus on it completely. Plus, they were only an hour from crossing the Pennsylvania state line.

"Not to me," he said grumpily. His hands gripped his knees, his lips pursed. "I don't want that to happen again. It was- It felt so real and I didn't know- I couldn't control things that were happening."

That tone was hard to miss; _all_ his tones were hard to miss, for that matter. Jesse was one of the most expressive individuals Claire could remember meeting. In her and Ben's world of secrets and false faces, it was almost refreshing. It also made her empathy with him all that more acute. She dropped her hand from her thigh to gently cup the back of his neck, kneading lightly. "Wish I could turn'em off, too."

He leaned into the touch, despite everything that had happened between them before. He needed to feel someone else was there. Breathing slowly in and out, he tried to think over the dream, though the details were feeling a bit muddled. "Why now? Maybe I dreamed before and just don't remember it?"

"That's possible," she offered softly, letting her fingers to their idle movement through his hair. "Lots of people don't remember their dreams." She sent him a side-long glance, commiserating silently. "Big changes in a person's life trigger lots of things."

* * *

><p>It was Claire's turn to drive, which left Jesse in the passenger seat with nothing to do. Ben was passed out in the back. The moment he'd gotten the call that his mom was awake and doing well, the stress had seeped out of him and left exhaustion behind.<p>

Jesse, on the other hand, felt like he was going to fly to pieces. It wasn't just everything that had gone down with Ben's family, though that wasn't enough. It wasn't even the talk with the demon. It was Claire. Claire, who'd rung up an angel to find out what was going on. It'd been unnerving enough to hear that she was open to the angel possession thing. Now if she was just going to chat with them whenever she wanted, he was bound to come up. And what angels would have to say about him wouldn't be good.

"It's good about Ben's mom, right?" he said, trying to fill the silence.

Claire pulled the Mountain Dew bottle from her lips and twisted the cap back on, momentarily driving with her knee. The question seemed somehow...off. Definitely out of the blue, if anything.

"'Course it is," She looked at him with a slightly quizzical expression, then paid attention to the road. "How do you think _he'd_ be if she was still on the edge?"

"Yeah," Jesse said, his lips pursing. "When I met those hunters, they told me staying around might be dangerous for my parents. Glad I listened to them. Don't know if I could have gone through something like that." Claire nodded once, but rolled her lips a bit. She tasted sugar and citrus flavoring, though she didn't register them consciously.

"He's still going through it," she said after a pause. Her voice, a bit softened.

Jesse took a sharp breath. "We'll find her. And we'll make that damned demon pay," he said, no doubt in his voice. Claire breathed in deep, agreeing, but keeping herself mildly restrained. There was no time off until this was over; she'd be perpetually serious from here on out.

Perhaps that's why she switched hands on the wheel, and laced her fingers with his, squeezing lightly. It wasn't a formal response, but it was clearly honest.

Jesse looked down at their hands, squeezing back but frowning. It seemed wrong, to want to talk about what had happened between the three of them when they had much more important things ahead of them. But they had time, and he'd rather talk things out with Claire first. She was more even-keeled about this kind of thing; after all, she hadn't tried to exorcise them the first time they met.

"When we've got Krysta back, I think it might be a good idea if I went away a couple weeks," he said quietly, not yet willing to pull his hand away.

"What?" Claire's response was completely automatic, same as the slight double-take. The statement was as surprising as the sudden lurch in her stomach at the thought. She looked back at the road, though. "Why?"

His jaw tightened. This time he did pull his hand away, in case she was going to pull back hers. "You know I can get people to do what I want. The thing is," he said, the words coming out slow and carefully chosen, "I can't always control it completely. And I think I might be doing that to you and Ben."

_Okay..._, that fear made sense, but at the same time it was near impossible to wrap around her mind. She could still feel the warmth from his hand leaching out of her palm. Her fingers curled in tight, then set on the wheel for something to occupy them. Claire inhaled deep, trying to keep her thoughts balanced with her words.

"Because of last night..." Over the din of all that had happened since then, it was coming back to her. How he'd reacted...

Jesse nodded, his eyes directed out the windshield. "We're together constantly, night and day. I haven't had that with anyone since... Well, never, actually. And I think, even though I wasn't trying, some of what I want has been seeping into the two of you. I think that cutting off for a couple weeks will get that out of your system. And then..." He licked his lips. "Then we can talk about what everybody really wants."

Claire listened attentively, well aware of the way direction this conversation was tightening a small vice in her stomach, as well as one in her heart. She sent him a sidelong glance, lingering as long as safe driving would allow. Jesse's eyes were as distant as he tried to make his words; thin with reluctance.

It was a few seconds before she spoke again, but she started with a soft, sad little laugh.

"You'd be surprised how familiar this all sounds..." she looked across the seat to him again, smiling gently to assure she had a point. "You come across something you're not used to-haven't been exposed to, because of the way you came up. You start to like it. You wonder; 'this is what makes me happy, this is what is supposed to be'... but then the uncertainty sets in. You wonder if you're wrong. You feel guilty, because it's so good... it can't possibly be real."

Claire cleared her throat a little, barely over her breath. She wanted to hold his hand so bad, and push those _painfully_ familiar fears out of her head. Instead, she smiled tightly at him, and gripped the wheel with a subtle desperation.

"You sure you're not Catholic?"

Jesse gave a laugh, though there was a hollow tinge to it. "Yeah, God's not really my thing. Or I'm not really His," he said with a twist of his mouth. "It's not just uncertainty for me, either. I've done it to people before."

"Jesse," Again, her lips pressed after saying his name. There were too many things that she wanted to say that could so easily be refuted by this very strange version of the 'it's not you, it's me' conversation. It was starting to remind her of early talks with her Sunday School teacher. _How could God do this?_ Because he's God.

She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment, then just went for broke. "We don't want you to go." Just so they were clear. "You're not the only one in this car that spent most of their life being a piece that didn't fit," Claire grabbed his hand again, and held on. "And you can't deny that you fit here, with us."

His throat tightened but he didn't pull back. He wouldn't even try to deny it. "I care about both of you. So I gotta make sure I do the right thing," he said, still not looking at her. She was looking at him, though; he could feel her eyes burning into him. "If you feel the same way when I get back, then we know. Simple as that."

"Simple as-" Claire's face screwed tight with a flare of defensiveness born from the growing tension of the subject matter. "_No_, Jess, it's not 'simple as that'. You screw up the people you care about when you leave... how do you not understand that?"

"I need to take a piss," came Ben's sudden voice from the back seat. He sounded much more awake and alert than he should have, given he was supposed to have been sleeping.

Claire pulled the car over in a thick silence; there was little traffic, thanks to the straight-shot back roads she'd mapped out to make sure they made the best time. One side was lined with a thick, barely contained forest, on the other side, what looked like an abandoned and overgrown farm.

Ben waited until they got out before pushing up on the bench seat, carefully unfolding himself out of it. He didn't say a word as he headed in the direction of the forest.*

Standing on his side of the car, Jesse ran his hands over his face before he went over to Claire. "It's just two weeks. It's not like I'm leaving forever." _I hope._

Claire had taken to leaning on the side of the GTO, keeping Ben in her field of vision as a measure of base-level safety, but her eyes flicked up to Jesse. "Look, Jess..." her voice was lower than normal, distressed, but still soft. "I know whatever it is that gave you these-_gifts_-have helped you skirt by a lot. If not by your choice, then by simple nature. I know you think you're doing this for us, but there's always consequences to what you do. Even if you don't see them." She held onto his gaze as long as she could, praying he wouldn't just turn away or faze out. "Look at me and tell me what I feel isn't real."

Jesse's expression tightened but he didn't look away. Claire had no idea what she was talking about, because she had no idea what he could do. The rules weren't the same when you weren't human. ...And Claire wasn't quite human.

"Can you look at me and promise you won't ever give your body to an angel?" he said, his voice hard.

Claire could do nothing but stare. The question was so out of left field and far removed from the conversation they were having. Her brain had screeched to a smoking halt and needed to recover.

"_What_?" she finally asked, her face screwed up at him in confusion and alarm. "What does that have to do with _this_?" The reminder had her looking for Ben; she felt a small shiver of panic when she didn't immediately see him. She thought back to his voice in the car, and the pieces snapped together. He'd heard them.

"If you get taken over by an angel, then you're leaving us, and that's more fucking permanent than me heading off for a couple weeks," he snapped, even more irritated that she wasn't looking at him.

Claire's vision suddenly went out of focus. Jesse's words cut through everything she'd been trying to concentrate on, and pierced a piece of her she hadn't shown in a long, _long_ time. She'd never considered the consequences of her servitude before-when it was just her, by herself... as Castiel had ultimately left her. She had no ties to break, then. Now... she _did_, like her father had. Her eyes burned as they came back into clarity.

"_You're right..._" she whispered finally, half-enlightened and half-defeated. She met his eyes with a painful honesty and understanding, yet without any words to make her thoughts clear. Because they weren't-what looked at Jesse behind Claire's blue eyes was every martyr's internal battle between life and Faith. "I don't want to leave." That was all she knew for sure.

"But you'd do it," he said, perhaps with more conviction than she felt. "Because you think it's right. And this is what I think is right. Even if it hurts you."

Claire's face held onto that stunned silence for another moment or two, watching him, but seeing more than she could presently handle-at least, verbally. And there was still the issue of Ben. She scrunched her nose toward her brows, finally just braking back to the core of the conversation.

"Look, all I'm saying is that we don't want you to go-and it's not just as simple as it might seem..." she had pushed off the car in the direction of the woods, fully expecting him to follow. "This was _so_ not the time to bring this up."

Jesse followed but with a scowl. "Well if you two went and tried to hop in bed with me tonight, wanted you to know why I'd say no." Not that he really thought that was going to happen. They weren't happy or drunk anymore.

Claire stopped on a dime and spun on her heels, spitting leaves behind her boots as she stepped almost right into him. He'd said a few things that triggered deep emotional responses in the otherwise _quite_ unemotional young woman, but that one really switched something on, and acidic behind her eyes.

"_That's it_-" she encouraged through a hot bite of sarcasm. "Make everything about sex. Makes things a lot easier that way, doesn't it?" Her ire was clear, but it wasn't _entirely_ aimed directly at Jesse; there was definitely something turned inward on her words. She didn't give him time to answer, either. Grabbing a fistful of his front collar, Claire pulled herself - and him - in hard. The calculated swipe of her tongue heated his bottom lip before she pinched it with her teeth, as if the kiss itself wasn't point enough.

Jesse's eyes went wide, and for a moment he couldn't move. Then for a moment more he didn't move, before he gingerly put his hands on her shoulders and pushed back. Claire didn't fight him-it was the reaction she expected, and her expression conveyed that perfectly.

"That make things a little more clear?" she asked with a little more bite than she intended, her eyes were sure, and harder than normal, but something about them was still fragile, just under the surface. Again, she didn't give him time to answer, turning to continue the search for what she knew was going to be a very upset Ben.

He shook his head, though she didn't see it. Was that real? Was that residual? Or did he just want it to be real so bad that he was manipulating them all the time now? Despite his tightened stomach, he followed after Claire, not asking where they were going.

Fortunately for the both of them, Ben hadn't gone very far. They found him settled on a rotted-out log, his head in his hands and his knuckles split open, shaking with silent sobs. When one step resulted in a snap of a twig he looked up as though it were a gunshot, his face drawn and his eyes red. Jesse stopped where he was, the uncertainty only deepening in his expression. Apparently Ben wasn't done dealing with everything that had happened, but the whole comforting thing wasn't really Jesse's forte. He hung back, letting Claire take the lead. She'd known the second she saw him that he'd been aware of the conversation, and felt her stomach start to dissolve her heart in a slow, bubbling ache.

"You're a fucking asshole, y'know that?" Ben said in a gritty voice, his eyes on Jesse. With every word, his voice rose until he was nearly screaming: "All this shit happens, and you have to drop a fucking bomb like that? My mom was in the goddamn hospital and my sister's been fucking kidnapped by demons, you prick! How can you even talk about leaving!"

"I-I'm not leaving," Jesse said, backing away slightly. "I'm going to help you find your sister. There's no way I'd leave you like this, mate."

"_Fuck_ you and your 'mate'!" Ben hollered, his face turning red. "You keep tryin' to leave, so why not just fucking _do it_ then! Own your fucking choices! It's obvious you only care about your own goddamn self anyway!"

Jesse stopped breathing. No. This couldn't be happening. He'd lived without anyone for so long, but he knew he couldn't survive without them now. He had to do something, had to stop this. And it didn't matter that it only proved just how selfish he was.

"Forget I said anything!" he yelled.

One second, she and Jesse were in the car, talking. Now, the three of them were in the woods, and Ben's face was tense and red, his knuckles were dripping blood down his arm. As the memory of some mental fog rapidly cleared, Claire became very acutely aware of how unsettled she felt.

Something had just messed with them, and Ben had obviously fought it off? She sided up to him with a careful eye out for Jesse as well, gesturing for him to come closer-lest whatever it was was still around. "Please tell me someone knows where we are..."

Ben blinked rapidly, feeling slightly delirious. His pulse was rapid and there was an obvious ache in his chest and hands. He stared at Claire, then looked past her to where Jesse was still standing. It was only when he tried to rub his eyes and shooting pain traveled up his arms that he noticed his knuckles.

"The fuck...?" he muttered, bringing the cuffs of his shirt over them to try and staunch the bleeding.

Jesse felt like his insides had been turned to ice. He'd done it, easy as that. It wasn't surprising. There had been plenty of times he'd made people think or act the way he wanted them to. He just hadn't done it to Ben and Claire, not on purpose before.

_No going back now._

"You-you guys alright?" he asked, coming over. "What was that thing?"

"You tell me," Ben said in the same confused voice. He'd started to tremble with aftershocks of adrenaline. Whatever it was, it'd been powerful, that was for sure. His mind was racing, trying to think what creature had the ability to wipe their minds so easily. Then it hit him. His eyes widened as he looked up at Jesse. Had it been the Trickster from Cherokee, Iowa?

Breathing hard, Claire was still frantically trying to get her bearings, both physical and mental. Had they been running? Why did she feel like she just watched somebody walk in front of a train? She looked at her own hands, half expecting to see them broken as well-but there was nothing. Nothing except the mounting discomfort of waking up in an unfamiliar place.

Wracking his brain to try to remember some kind of creature that could erase their memories, Jesse came up empty. "I-I don't know. We were driving along, and there was this light, like a little bright ball," he rambled, holding his hands to demonstrate the size. "And the car died. And when we got out, you two just started arguing, and then Ben said he had to pee and ran off but you followed and you just kept arguing. Ben...you, you punched a tree. You were fucking pissed. And then the light came back, and I just told it to stop what it was doing to you and leave. And it did."

Ben and Claire simultaneously looked at Jesse, then at each other. Claire felt her heart sink, then shudder hard when she again took in the sight of his split knuckles. The hollow thought of what she had said to make him lose control like that... it literally turned her stomach. She swallowed it down thickly, her face drawn, still confused, but now despondent as well.

Looking at Claire, Jesse's stomach wrenched. "You didn't mean it. I-I think the thing did something to you, because you were saying shit you would never say." Jesse glanced at Ben and away. "I know you didn't mean it."

"What was I saying?" Claire was almost afraid to ask.

"It doesn't matter, it wasn't real," Jesse said, just short of snapping. He didn't want questions, he didn't want to have to explain the lie. "Look, Krysta's still out there, we got more important things to do. C'mon." He turned towards the car.

* * *

><p>It was late afternoon by the time the GTO needed another fill-up, and hunger scraped at their insides enough to pull over at a massive truck-stop off of I-80, somewhere in Ohio that Claire couldn't remember ever being. The drive had been tense, but then again-so had the whole trip. With an unknown destination and a deadline fast approaching, the missing time earlier that afternoon was just another piece of the whole goddamned puzzle.<p>

Through the open window, the tinny sound system in the GTO filled the background of highway traffic and eighteen wheelers hissing their air brakes. Claire cracked open the bottle of water in her hands. She was crouched next to Ben, who was sitting on the passenger side bench seat, bruised and bloodied knuckles held out from between his knees. She was gentle in her touch and her silence, and supported one of his palms with her own while half the water doused away crusted blood and bits of bark.

Ben clenched his teeth to keep from wincing. Jesse had been extremely close-lipped the moment they got back in the car from the woods, and that only made him more nervous. He wasn't telling them something. Knowing that ate at him. Not only that, but it filled him with a deep sense of guilt. They'd never told Claire about the Trickster; he could understand keeping the hookers thing between them, but Ben was starting to doubt keeping a hunt from her.

"You think any are broken?" she asked him quietly, drenching the other hand until the water stopped dripping pink. She was distracted, obviously-they _all_ were-but Claire had been ordering herself to keep what she did know in a carefully orchestrated line of priorities in her mind. It was her default method of operation, not just for hunts, but life in general. It was a task that had become much harder in the last few months...

"I don't think so," Ben answered, feeling that same twist in his stomach as he thought about his no-longer-broken ribs. He took a breath, then let it out. "I gotta tell ya somethin'."

She looked up at him from under the fans of dark lashes, while dabbing one of his hands dry with one of the clean handkerchiefs Claire always seemed to have on her person. "What's that?" Her eyes were back on what she was doing, the pad of her thumb rubbing away dried blood, feather light and slow.

Ben took another breath, then let it out. He knew this was going to be bad, but it needed to be conquered. She'd saved his mother's life; she deserved the truth.

"When we were in Cherokee," he started trying to keep his voice calm, "that night we were at the bar and I left but then Jesse came after me? We ran into a Trickster. There was a time loop." Claire's brows twitched toward each other over her nose when she looked up at him again, a pause in drying his other hand.

"We were..." Ben licked his suddenly-dry lips. "Jess and I got turned into kids. We were kids for a whole day. Then somehow he put you to sleep and we went through this... I dunno, playback? We watched the shit that had gone down, him and I, starting back from the Dells to that moment. But he put you to sleep. He backed us up right to before I clocked him in the face. He took away your memories of it."

Claire felt an uncomfortable sensation prick her nerves behind her jaw when it tightened, if only for a fresh sense of violation gleaned from the notion of something messing with her memories. But the details he laid out, even though not making all that much sense... The crease of skin between her eyebrows deepened. Claire sat back on her heels and put her hands on her lap, forcing a breath.

"Go on..."

She wasn't yelling at him. That was a good sign at least. Ben let go of the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "He healed my ribs, too. But I think- I think he came again, that's why we can't remember anything. But it was Jesse that was caught up this time. He's got this face like he knows something happened and doesn't wanna say, y'know?"

"Wait a sec..." That was a lot of information to process, and Claire needed a moment to sift through everything, sentence by sentence. Her face washed with a methodical sternness, and her head tipped to one side. Her voice had fallen a few decibels for good reason-she felt like the air was being wrung from her lungs.

"So you're saying... we all got mixed up with a _Trickster_, for _a day_, then he suddenly just-put everything back to normal, and wiped _my_ memory... but not yours or Jesse's. _And_ he healed you in the process? ….and you didn't tell me _anything_?"

This time Ben did wince. _Pick your words carefully,_ he told himself. "Nobody died. Nothing bad happened. I didn't wanna worry you. It just left and we thought it was done with us, so we just..." He swallowed. "Please don't be mad. I mean, I know you have every right to be, you do, but it wasn't anything big, honest-"

"Ben-look at me," she demanded, and caged his eyes with her own when he did. She fell into a short silence while sifting through exactly what she wanted to say first-because there was _a lot_ to be said. But in the end, all she could do was inhale a shaky breath, then huff it out as a hard sigh, then swallow the knot of confusion and subtle betrayal that had lodged in her throat.

"First of all, how would 'nothing bad happened' and you being healed make you think I'd be worried? You think vaguely proposing we sleep separate out of the blue, while I still thought you could barely breathe right at night was a _better idea_?" There was a little of that hurt she'd been suppressing, but she didn't let him answer. Oh no, she wasn't done with this.

"Secondly, and _most_ important- _this_," she made a gesture, circling her finger around herself, him, and a nod toward Jesse back in the truck stop. "_Can't work_ unless we can fully trust each other. You _know that_."

"He was gonna leave, Claire," Ben said in a rush, a flicker of panic in his eyes. "I saw him packing and leaving, the night we first slept in the same bed. In the loop, I mean. I saw his face. I-" his throat suddenly closed up. "I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry. And then you got an angel to heal my mom, and I-" Tears welled up in his eyes in spite of his best efforts. "I love you, Claire."

That was all it took to completely derail Claire's every single thought. Caught so off guard by the sudden declaration, her breath stopped, her lips fell open, frozen in thought and speech. Claire couldn't even blink.

She sat like that for what seemed like an eternity, though the pound of her heart counted down only a second or two as it spiked her blood pressure and blazed beneath her cheeks. His eyes were always so sharp, made brighter by the well of moisture in them-and in _them_, she could tell it was the raw, honest truth that'd just fell from his lips. She finally found some semblance of control and let her eyes close, searching her own heart.

The flicker turned into a bloom, and without thinking Ben moved his hands up to her face, his thumbs resting on the apples of her cheeks.

"Say something," he whispered, not trusting his voice at full volume.

His touch was gentle, but the sensation went _so_ deep, and curled around her fluttering heart like a security blanket. With it, she finally breathed-uneven and sudden, but deep. Automatically, her hands lifted to his arms, holding on tighter than she realized. Before this moment, she hadn't fully faced what she felt for him-or for that matter, what she felt for Jesse-but even in the light of everything he'd just told her, _before_ his admission of love, Claire knew she had forgiven him, regardless. She also knew she always would.

Her eyes opened, now swimming just as much as his. Her grip tightened and pulled him in close, and tight.

"_I love you, too..._" was just barely breathed into his cheek. It was God's honest truth, and terrifying as it was relieving. Ben turned his face the necessary inches needed to press his mouth into hers, insistent and hungry, his hands leaving her face in favor of wrapping around her so he could pull her even closer. For just the briefest moment, nothing else mattered in the world but her. Not the pain, not the demon, not even the unresolved tension between the three of them and what had happened in the woods, and in the bar.

Claire felt her entire body shudder with the potent mix of new-found strength and a desperate weakness. She knew he'd feel it, a subtle tremble just beneath the surface of her skin, _everywhere_, and for some reason-that was okay. She _wanted_ him to feel it. Handing over her vulnerability, especially in the light of all they would be faced with, was terrifying-but now she couldn't imagine it being any other way.

"So don't you come apart on me," Claire whispered against his lips, smiling and complete with a little self-reflection. She kissed him this time, then once more; her hand gently pushed through his hair, as it was always wont to do. Funny how simply hearing the words brought the full force of her feelings from the back of her mind out for all to see-most especially _her_.

Coming around the car with burger bags in hand, Jesse stopped short. Well. At least this sight made sense, even if it didn't make him feel any better. "Yeesh, always sex, sex, sex with you two," he said, his grin not quite making it to his eyes. "I'll go ahead and eat in the back then."

Ben gently separated himself from Claire's hold at the look in Jesse's eyes, feeling a mixture of agitation and confusion. Sex -at least presently- was the farthest thing from his mind. He frowned a little at him. Claire's expression was a bit softer, but shared Ben's confusion at Jesse's choice of words.

"We should hit up a grocery store and buy a few things to eat on the road so we don't stop," Ben said, presenting his hands to Claire again. She took in a deep breath and let it out slow, then grabbed the first roll of gauze on Ben's lap, but ticked a nod toward herself at Jesse, beckoning him to come closer.

"Ben told me about the Trickster, Jess..." her voice was soft and worn, like a well-loved tee shirt. After the last ten minutes-Hell, after the last three hours (plus the missing time), Claire wanted everything out in the open. She looked up at him from the careful task of wrapping Ben's right hand. "Do you think he followed us here?"

Jesse frowned. He wasn't all that surprised Ben had come clean about the Trickster, but now seemed an odd time for it. "Why? You see him again?"

"He wiped Claire's memory," Ben said slowly, his brows furrowed. "But we remembered. I figured maybe since, y'know, we can't remember what happened..." he left it off, letting the other man basically fill in the blanks.

His eyes widening, Jesse nearly smiled. That actually wasn't a bad idea. "So you think he came back?" he said slowly, opening up the burger sacks.

Ben stared at him, his confusion turning into suspicion. "You tell us. You're the only one who hasn't lost time."

"Well, that thing that stopped the car might've been the Trickster. That makes sense, actually..." he said thoughtfully. "You weren't acting yourselves. He might've done that."

Claire listened to the two of them, only looking up after tucking the bandage in tight. Her lips made a straight line, then rolled together. Tricksters weren't exactly common, and the term was vague enough as it was; no telling what one's powers were aside from the next. One hunter she'd known even had a theory that all the Tricksters in the world were actually the same being-with different personalities. He was a little _off_.

Still, they weren't mind-controllers. None that she knew of, anyway. "Did you see or hear anything that might've _triggered_ it all?" The theory was thin; Claire couldn't imagine anything that would make her act like-like how Jesse'd described, but she was wracking her brain for it all to make sense.

"I don't know," he said, trying not to snap. "Look, you should just finish that up and we should get going."

_He's not telling the truth,_ Ben thought, feeling his hackles rise. He knew Jesse well enough at that point that he could tell when the other man was upset or not being completely straight with him. Ben didn't like it, not at all, but he didn't say anything.

"So, a grocery store," he said again. "Preferably one that has a Starbucks inside. I need coffee."

* * *

><p>For a Super-Target in the middle of nowhere, this place certainly was <em>crowded<em>. Claire narrowly avoided being barrelled over by three identical pint-sized soccer players fresh from some glorious victory, rounding out of the cereal aisle with their exhausted looking mother. _Triplets_. "God help that woman..." she admired over her shoulder, half speaking to Jesse, but mostly to herself.

She readjusted the red plastic basket slung over her arm and tossed in a large squeeze bottle of Smuckers Strawberry, right next to the Texas toast loaf of bread and organic chunky peanut butter.

Jesse's eyes had been focused on the aisle and he looked up a little too late. "Hm," he agreed, now studying the food. He'd only finished half his burger, but being around all this food was making him feel ill, and it didn't go unnoticed by Claire.

"Hey," she stopped and waited for him to catch up. The look in his eyes was distant and disturbed, no doubt from what had happened this afternoon. The questions were still in her head, and wouldn't likely go away any time soon-but time was short. It'd have to go on the back-burner.

Which is why she lightly bumped hips with him, a commiserative and empathetic nudge before slipping her arm around his as they headed toward the check-out, and the Starbucks where Ben waited in line. "It's hard to get past some things, I know," she obviously attributed his disturbance with what happened. Claire gave Jesse's arm a squeeze and offered up a gentle, tired, and somewhat sad smile. "That's what we're here for-to make it all a little easier."

He tried not to let the twist in his chest show in his face, smiling down at her. The way they'd looked, the confusion and fear knowing that they had had something stripped from them, that was his fault. He didn't want to see that confusion and fear, and anger, directed at him. "You do that already," he told her.

The corners of her mouth quirked up a little more. Claire brushed his shoulder with her lips, then lightly bit down, just to keep the mood light. "Good to know I don't have to try too hard. You want Funyuns or Doritos?"

Jesse held his breath a moment. That couldn't be his doing, could it? _Look at me and tell me what I feel isn't real_, she'd said. But he didn't know. He just didn't know. "You lot have really stupid names for shit."

"_You lot_?" Claire snickered at him, and stuffed a bag of each in the basket. "How'bout we git some Amber Fluid an'Golden Gaytime ice cream, mate." Her fabricated Aussie accent was piss-poor, at best-but the product names were easy enough to remember.

That got a wide, genuine grin, and a barely suppressed urge to kiss her. "Now you're talking my language. Never knew you were actually born Australian, Claire."

When Ben finally got to the front of the line, the rail-thin barista behind the counter smiled politely at him, her brown eyes wide and bright as she met his gaze.

"What can I get you today, sir?"

"Double Venti Caffè Americano," Ben answered. The barista's brow pulled together briefly.

"So you wanted two extra shots?"

"Four," Ben replied. "Eight total." The girl flashed him a wry grin.

"My kinda guy," she said, tapping in the order on the touch screen. "That'll be $5.45, please."

"_Mine too_," Claire's sudden whisper brushed the back of Ben's neck, followed by the quick warmth of her lips, just before she pressed her hand on the small of his back-plastic bags in her other hand crinkling. Ben's cheeks immediately warmed, but he didn't say anything. Claire flicked a look at the girl behind the counter over Ben's shoulder. "We'll be over here." Meaning, of course, the little cafe tables by the exit doors.

"'Kay," he said, digging out the appropriate bills from his wallet that Jesse had recently filled. He held out the money to give to the barista, but the moment their skin touched it felt like static electricity. Her brown eyes suddenly widened.

"Maine."

Ben blinked, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly rise.

"What?" he sputtered.

"Your sister," the barista said, her voice suddenly breathless but urgent. "Somewhere close to Chemquasabamticook Lake. With the others... all shadows, light and darkness, crossing over, making shapes in the ground-" she sucked a breath so harsh and high that it sent her into a coughing fit and she recoiled. The other barista behind the counter came up to her with a concerned look on her face.

"Rosie, you all right?"

"Yeah," Rosie answered, "I- yeah, I'm- I'm fine. I think I need a smoke break or somethin'."

"Lemme just finish this order so I can cover the register."

Hope and confusion warred inside Ben, sending his pulse off at a gallop as he stood frozen to the spot, still staring at the girl. Claire happened to look up from her and Jesse's table. Whatever was going on, it definitely _wasn't_ a regular picking-up-the-coffee scene. Not with the look on that girl's face.

The next second, she was at Ben's side, peering cautiously at the stunned look on his face.

"Who are you?" Ben said in a dazed voice. Rosie just blinked at him and shook her head.

"I..." she breathed, then shook her head a second time. "I gotta help the next customer, sir. I'll- I'm sorry."

Claire had no idea what had just happened, but she knew it wasn't going to be good for them if it got more tense than it'd already become. There were people here, watching them. There was a camera behind that wallet mirror on the wall. She had to think quick.

"C'mon, we gotta go," she uttered quietly close to Ben's shoulder as she laced their fingers at his side. When he looked at her, Claire's brows lifted. When she spoke she was careful to keep her tone natural for any who were listening in, but she knew he'd understand. "We'll come back _later_."

Jesse was already on his feet, gathering bags. The uncertainty hanging over the room was thick enough to touch, and this wasn't the kind of attention he preferred to draw. "Yeah, gotta get these back in the fridge," he said awkwardly, figuring it sounded like an average thing to say.

Ben let Claire steer him away, his gaze locked on the barista until they were out of her line of sight. The moment they were, he immediately turned his eyes to Claire and spoke in a rapid tone:

"She knew where Krysta was. She said she was by some lake with a long name. She's going on a smoke break. _I need to talk to her._" Her brows pinched together as confusion and alarm crashed behind her eyes, but Claire nodded after a brief moment of thought.

* * *

><p>The nicotine couldn't get into her system fast enough. Rose Holt sparked up before the metal bay door of Target's shipment ramp was fully open, and set her back against the beige painted brick. It was difficult, considering the strength of the vibration in her fingertips like she was freezing cold. <em>Christ<em>, that hadn't happened in so long...

Ben had waited in the car, eyes on the door, twitching like a junkie who needed a fix. The moment he saw the redhead emerge he was out the door and walking fast, splinters of pain shooting up his shins from his attempt at not straight up running toward her. He barely registered Claire and Jesse following him. He _needed to talk to this girl._

Rose felt a trickle of ice water drip down the length of her spine a split second before a pair of footsteps rounded the building corner. Her eyes widened when she saw him -_hunter_- flashing like a neon sign in her brain. Her cigarette dropped from her lips to roast on the ground.

"Look, I told you everything!" she hurried, stiffening up against the wall.

Ben stopped on a dime, his eyes suddenly widening at her defensive posture and his hands going palms-up in a sign of peace.

"I'm not out to hurt you," Ben said in a similar tone and speed. "I just- I just wanna talk to you, that's all. I promise." Rosie stared at him with a mix of sharp caution and natural warning. She looked behind his eyes and knew his intentions matched his words, which was a good thing. Didn't change the fact that he made her nervous.

"So talk. Just-don't touch me." It was a common warning, but held an entirely different meaning for Rosie, and her tone reflected that.

"_How did you do that?_" Ben asked in an explosion of air and wonder.

_This_ was why Rosie never went into crowds, especially when emotions were running high. Confrontation wasn't her thing, and this was the worst kind. Hunters asked more questions. More _directed_ questions, anyway, and there were some things she just didn't need being spread around _that_ particular community.

She looked at him, tight in the jaw and tense everywhere else. "It just happens." She paused, trailing off there in favor of adding details, but one consolation did pop in her head. The psychometric parts of her 'gift' only struck when a subject was under extreme emotional distress. Someone missing a sibling sure would do that. She felt sorry for the guy, even if he put her on edge simply by being there.

"I wish I could tell you more, but like I said: that's all I got."

Ben's eyes moved back and forth between hers, trying to find the words she wasn't using on her face, but she hid them well. She couldn't have been more than 18. He felt such a deep-seated empathy for her plight that it momentarily stunned him silent.

"All your life?" he asked finally.

"Since I was twelve, mostly," Rosie answered after a thoughtful pause. Her voice had gotten a little softer, feeling the subtle wave of commiseration lift from him like steam.

Jesse went still, his eyes suddenly snapping to focus on Rosie. It wasn't the same as him, but there was a familiarity that cut into him. Even made him wonder. He stayed quiet.

"Is there anything you could tell us about what to expect, at least?" Ben asked meekly. He'd never actually spoken to a _real_ psychic before. Once or twice he'd tried navigating through the thin waters that tarot card readers tread through, but most of them were only after the extra money; they didn't have any real access to knowledge of the future or the ability to communicate 'beyond the veil.'

Rosie's eyes flicked between the hunter and the guy a few paces back. Her nerves were on edge, almost twitching, making her hyper-aware of the two pairs of eyes on her-one pleading, the other in stark observation. The third was around; she could feel her. Just another thing that added to her extreme desire to remove herself from this situation.

She stared back at Ben, a breath pushed hard through her nostrils as she turned her focus outward, sifting for anything she could give them that would result in their leaving, hopefully not to come back.

"They're waiting for you," she said finally, a little wan. Rosie felt her stomach clench with the thought, but that wasn't anything new. "All of you."

"Who's they?" Jesse said quickly, his heart skipping a beat. It was a strange thing to say, obvious. Unless she meant someone else. Someone he'd only seen in a dream. Ben's eyes immediately moved to Jesse, his expression pulled in a frown.

When she tried to 'see' the details of the darkened shapes that flashed behind her eyes, Rosie felt something hard sitting on her chest that made normal conversation difficult. She shook her head and opened her eyes, keeping them open, afraid for the moment to go back. "I don't know."

"Just another thing on the long list of shit we don't know," Ben said, his tone caught somewhere between bitterness and sadness. He didn't like the tension that was radiating off of Jesse suddenly, either. He turned his eyes back to Rosie again.

"I'm sorry for all this. Really. I didn't mean to trigger you." He paused to pull out a pen from his cargo pocket with one hand and a crumpled up receipt with the other, then jotted down his cell number. "If anything else comes to you..."

Rosie's jaw set briefly, her eyes on the receipt held forward in his hand. Urgency and desperation radiated off him, especially when she stepped forward, closing the gap albeit cautiously.

"I wouldn't hold your breath," she said, taking the piece of paper, though her voice held a softer quality than before. Looking at the number before pushing it into her pocket, she took a step back toward the bay door. "I really do hope it works out..." Her eyes flicked passed Ben again to the other standing behind him, like they had several times in the last few minutes. He was like a magnet, and she had no idea why. She didn't want to know, either.

Jesse opened his mouth to say something before closing it again. He wanted to talk with her, find out what she was, but that was involved. First he'd have to get Ben and Claire out of there without them getting suspicious. Then he'd have to find a way to bring it up. "Are you all human?" was a crazy icebreaker. So he kept his mouth shut, while his insides were on edge.

"C'mon, we're losing daylight," Ben said at last, the briefest flicker of hope finally returning to him. Krysta was in Maine. Better still, they had a general location. So long as they kept driving non-stop, they'd make it in time.

* * *

><p>After referring to the map, Ben realized there were two possible options to take: they could drive through Canada and get there in about eight fewer hours but risk that in border crossing wait times; or they could punch it and keep stateside. Even without the added pressure of not knowing where they were going and having 48 states to desperately comb through in too little time, Ben wanted to get there as quickly as possible. If that meant him driving two-thirds of the trip, so be it.<p>

Claire wasn't too fond of the idea of them not having a bed to sleep in or a shower after 24 hours in a car with two men, but luckily she didn't press the issue as hard as he thought she would. He made sure to clean up as thoroughly as he could in the last gas station's tiny bathroom, but there was no way he was going to stop. He'd promised his mom, and just thinking about what that demon bitch was doing to his sister was slowly eating away at him.

"Hand me another Monster, wouldja?" he said quietly to Jesse, trying to keep his voice down for Claire's sake since she was sleeping.

Their supply bag was mostly empty cans by now, but Jesse found a new one, handing it over. Before he'd met these two, Jesse had no idea how exhausting it could be to just sit in a car for hours on end. He'd had his own rest not long ago but felt like it had been days since he slept. All this when he could be there right now.

"I could just have a quick look around. Make sure we're going the right way," he said quietly.

"And walk right into a trap, by yourself and with no back-up," Ben finished for him. "No. We do this together. We're a team. That's how it works." He cast a frown in the other man's direction before turning his eyes back to the road again. "You're not invincible. You can still get decapitated or shot in the head. There's a million and one ways to kill a tricky kill; haven't I taught you anything?"

"I don't think the demon's getting us there to shoot me in the head," Jesse said, his gaze even on Ben. "They wanted to do that, they could've done it by now. You've taught me enough so I can be careful."

"I appreciate the sentiments, but the answer's still no," Ben said. He worked his jaw for a few seconds before continuing on. "You heard the psychic. They're expecting us. We have exactly zero chances of this even working out, Jess, and I need you alive." He swallowed. "You need to get her back to my mom if I can't."

"Shut up," Jesse said, his face hardening. "That's not how it's going to happen. I'm the last one out of there, and don't try to fucking argue."

And he didn't. In fact, Ben felt a small sense of satisfaction for having managed to switch Jesse's gears from first in to last out. There was a tense pause between them before Ben found it in him to speak again, which he filled by taking a long pull from the energy drink. The effervescence made his eyes sting; or at least, that's what he chose to believe.

"About last night," he started slowly.

Jesse frowned, looking over at him. He raised an eyebrow in question. Ben licked his lips and took another sip from the Monster.

"If you're not, y'know," Ben tossed his head vaguely, then shook it. "I didn't mean to weird you out. Can't exactly say you're the first to turn my head, but I've never had the guts to act on it before."

Licking his lips, Jesse looked out the windshield. He'd thought after everything happened, they'd just let this go. "It's fine, mate. I wasn't... I mean, you were pretty drunk," he said, hoping to hide behind that.

Ben swallowed again, feeling heat flash in his face like a flame. It was the perfect escape, but he just couldn't take it. It wasn't the truth. He took a small inhale and held it before letting it out.

"Might'a been, but I'd been sorta wanting to since Madison."

Jesse felt warmth washing up his face. It was hard, when he wanted it too but knew it might not be real. He'd tried to talk to Claire, thinking she'd be level-headed about the whole thing. He was wrong. He hated to think how Ben would react.

"I care about you," Jesse said quietly, eyes focused on the dashboard. "More than...more than almost anything. But I don't think it'd be a good idea."

Something in Ben's chest dropped down to his stomach. He tried not to let it show on his face, simply picking up the energy drink again where it was resting in the cup holder and taking a hard gulp.

"S'cool," he lied. "No hard feelings."

Jesse's stomach gave a hard twist. "I don't think it'd be a good idea for me and Claire either. Or me and anyone," he said, looking over at Ben and willing him to understand. "Things with me are kind of fucked up. There's a reason I stick with hookers, y'know."

"Because everyone else thinks you're an asshole?" Ben offered, looking sideways at him briefly and giving him a wisp of a smile.

Despite the smile, Jesse's insides turned cold. "Maybe everyone else is right," he said lightly, shrugging it off and leaning back in his seat.

"Oh shut up, I was joking," Ben told him, aiming a light shove into his shoulder. Just that little bit of contact, small as it was, made Ben ache. He went a little quiet again.

"Maybe part of the reason everyone likes you is because you make it so damn easy to be liked, Jess," he said after another lengthy pause. "And I don't just mean you literally make them, I..." he licked his lips again and reached for the energy drink. "When you're just being you, no mask, no games, you're... it's... not so fucked up. This kinda life, it changes you, makes you jaded. You just took it up like it was just another grind, no big. That in itself is kind of amazing." He sighed a little. "And if it was really just your Jedi mind trickery, then I wouldn't have a full-range of emotion, would I? Because I do. Sometimes I wanna... y'know-" he took a sip from the Monster, "-and sometimes I just wanna kick the crap out of you. Like in the Dells, or back at that bar. But if you really... don't wanna risk it, I won't push." _I don't want you to run off,_ he finished in his head, hating the desperation that fueled the thought.

Jesse swallowed hard around a lump in his throat. Ben seemed to see right through him, soothing down the fears that swarmed in his head. Maybe it was real. Maybe he'd become a better man. But he couldn't do anything until he knew for sure. "I just wanna concentrate on Krysta. Once we've set things right, then I'll have time to think."

Ben nodded silently, his words immediately summoning the images he'd been fighting so hard to suppress. He finished the last of the energy drink and chucked the bottle into the empty sack, the tin making a clatter as it connected with the others.

Once again, silence fell between them. That is, until Ben saw the roadblock in the distance. There were at least six police cars. He found himself groaning.

"Fantastic..." he muttered. "Claire, wake up."

Despite being slightly cramped in the back seat, Claire had been _deep_ asleep, enough to almost miss the spoken trigger of her name. It usually took less than a breath of air across her cheek to snap her back into consciousness; this time, she felt like her brain was being dragged through molasses.

"Where-" she managed to mutter, still mostly asleep. One hand grabbed at the back of the front seat, catching a bit of Ben's shirt in the process. Of course, she froze for a second once she saw what was ahead of them. It immediately made her headache a little worse. "...what is _this_ crap?" she grumbled, and twisted toward the bags in search of their ID's.

"Fugitive on the run, maybe?" Ben answered, easing off the gas and forcing himself to be calm. The faster they got past the check-point, the faster they'd be back to getting the hell out of dodge.

Jesse shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking between them. "What is it? Those are police, right? What should we do?"

"Just be chill," came Ben's immediate answer. "This isn't exactly new. Just not what I was expecting right now." Claire handed up both their IDs, and even took a moment to give Jesse's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Just like the apartment in the Dells," she said, making it a point to press her lips tight before settling in the back seat. When Ben finally eased to a stop, an officer walked up to the driver's side window and tapped on it. Ben rolled it down.

"Sir, can I ask you and your passengers to step out, please?" he said politely.

Jesse looked between them, his eyes wide, but he opened his door, sliding out. A bright light blinded him before he was even free of the door.

"That's him." That voice was quiet. The next, however, ordered in no uncertain terms, "Get your hands up where we can see them!"

"_Whoa, whoa!_" Claire erupted from her side of the GTO, and immediately put her palms up when she got a warning look from two nearby officers. "What's goin' on?"

"Please remain calm, ma'am," one officer told her.

"Where's your warrant?" Ben said sharply. "I wanna see your warrant."

"Sir, please stay calm and keep your hands up. Your friend here matches the description of a wanted criminal. We don't need a warrant."

"What?" Jesse said, almost at a laugh. He slightly lowered his hands. "Look, just-"

"Hands where we can see them!" the officer barked, and Jesse's hands shot straight up.

Two more agents stepped out of another car, dressed in black suits. Without even a word, the shorter of the two agents pulled out a gun-looking weapon and shot it at Jesse. Ben and Claire both jumped, expecting the crack of a bullet, but it never game. Jesse jerked with a scream that cut off as he fell, his body ramrod straight but pulsing. He couldn't think or even process what was going on, the pain surging through him in waves.

"What the hell are you doing!" Ben shouted, forgetting that he had at least three guns pointed at him as he lunged at the suited agent. He was apprehended bodily and shoved up against one of the police officer's cars to be cuffed. Claire's shout of protest was lost in the commotion, and under the two uniformed officers that piled on her at the first sign of aggression.

"Check the trunk," The taller agent said, already going to Jesse and dragging him up by the shoulder. Warning klaxons exploded in his head. The shorter one trotted over, moving into the driver's side window to pull out the keys. Meanwhile, Ben was being read his rights for obstruction of justice but he ignored them, craning his neck to watch the agent and hoping he didn't see the latch for the dummy trunk. Claire didn't have the option, considering her cheek was being pushed onto the hood of a squad car, and cuffs clicking around her wrists.

Claire was still breathing hard when they shoved her into the back and shut the door, followed quickly by Ben on the other side. Through pieces of her hair and the fog on the window, she watched the two Suits load an unconscious Jesse into a car ten feet away. Somewhere in the back of her mind, something wondered why nothing ever seemed to turn out like it was supposed to.

"He'll be alright," she huffed, trying to convince the both of them. "Soon as he wakes up, he'll jump somewhere safe." Claire wasn't so worried about herself and Ben; it wasn't like they hadn't been arrested before.

Ben hardly heard her. His eyes were glued to the two agents. For the briefest moment, he could have sworn he saw the flash of ink-black eyes before their officer stepped into their car.


	16. Episode 9: Exit Wounds

Jesse woke up screaming. A pain lanced through his side, sharp and all consuming until it was suddenly gone. It was like a dagger in the side. Breathing hard, he opened his eyes, only to see a knife right in front of him. _That explains it._

He didn't question it; all he had to do was get out of there. An image in mind, he disappeared. Except he was still there, the knife-wielding FBI agent still standing over him. He twitched, trying again, and again nothing happened. So he tried to move, except he couldn't. There were bindings at his wrists, his legs, across his chest and forehead. He could hardly even shift.

That's when the panic set in, his terrified eyes on on the man he was utterly helpless before.

"Well that's unfortunate," the agent said with a slight frown, his eyes focused on the wound the knife left. Slowly but surely, it knitted up. "You should've at least been able to get the bindings off. You're not even trying."

"W-what're you talking about?" Jesse said, his eyes darting between the man and the knife. He bucked again against the bindings, but they didn't give. It was only then he noticed he'd been stripped naked. "What's going on? You're not the police."

The agent's mouth split in a wide smile. "Top of the class, Mr. Turner." When the wound finally healed the free fingers of his unoccupied hand came up to touch the wound. The skin was smooth, without even a scar. "Let's see... should I try a deep organ wound, or slice off a finger? The last few cuts might've been a bit too easy."

"No! Please," Jesse plead before thrashing violently, his muscles straining to the brink of pain. And then it hit him. If things were this bad for him... "What did you do with my friends?"

"They've been taken ahead. Other plans, you see," the agent replied, tracing the tip of the knife along Jesse's collar bone. "Important plans. Can't cross them. You'll see them again, no doubt."

Jesse's breath came quick and shallow, his eyes straining in vain to see the knife's progression. He wanted to scream and rage at the man, and he wanted to huddle into himself and cry. "Please. Please, just let me go. I haven't done anything," he begged.

The smile on the agent's face turned gentler. "Don't be afraid. These are just tests. You can overcome them, you just have to believe it. The faster you overcome them, the faster I can let you go."

"Why?" Jesse said, some of his fear giving way to anger. "Why would anyone want to test-" He froze. There had been something nagging at him since he woke, something small compared to the pain and terror but coming to the surface now. Looking at the man, he felt a wave of recognition. "You're a demon."

The agent smiled again. A quick blink revealed the flash of shiny blackness, then it was gone. "I love the face you make when you figure something out. It's so much more satisfying than telling you." Then the knife slid into him again - a quick stab, right into his liver.

Jesse screamed, his spine arching off the table. He breathed deep as the pain receded, though his eyes watered. "I'm on your side, you fucking bastard," he gasped, glaring hard. "I'm one of you!"

The demon hummed as if in thought, wiping the blood off the knife with his pant leg before dropping into a crouch so he could check how quickly the wound healed. "Yes and no," he said. "You're human, too. You've got all those icky human things, like emotions and a conscience. And your own soul, turns out. Free will and all that jazz. Someday, you might even be a martyr for the goodie-goodies, and we can't have that." The wound wasn't completely healed yet, and the demon stuck his finger into the hole to give it a twist, pulling a sob from Jesse. "Oh come on, you can do it faster than that, hurry up."

His eyes screwed tight, squeezing out tears that ran down his temples. He gasped as the finger was withdrawn, his eyes snapping open. "I CAN'T FUCKING CONTROL IT!" he snarled.

"But you can, Jesse," the demon answered, bringing one hand up to his face. Blood from the wound still coated his finger all the way to the third knuckle. "You've been practicing everything else. We know you have. Once we found the paper trail you left us from Chicago, it was easy to track your progress. You made over $3200 in perfectly copied bills, and that's just money. Your father is so proud of you. But he knows you can do more."

"I'm not doing anything for him," Jesse said, trying to jerk away from his touch. "You're getting your ass handed to you, you know that? My friends are going to come find me and they're gonna tear you to shreds!"

The demon chuckled. "They're going to have their hands full with their own problems. Besides, how are they going to know where to look?"

The words were like a rock in his stomach, sinking him down into darkness. He swallowed hard, trying to hold onto the idea that Ben and Claire would come. "I can't control the fucking healing. How am I supposed to practice healing?"

The demon answered it by stabbing him yet again. It didn't matter how much the demon did it, each time felt like unending agony. "Untie me!" he snarled when he could catch his breath again. "LET ME GO!"

"Can't do that, I'm afraid," the demon answered with a thin-lipped frown. "Or I should say, I'm lucky not to have to. See, the circle you're in? Dampens you. It's not totally fool-proof, but you're far from our first, and sometimes we've had to put others in time out." He paused, twirling the knife in his hand. "Anyway, there's more than just this test to work on. But if you can break out of your bindings and out of the circle like I said, I'll let you go."

For good measure, the demon sliced into him again - shallow cuts and deeper stabs, with hardly a pause between them - five more times. They were very, very deliberate places, and when he finished he left without another word.

As soon as he sensed he was alone, Jesse's face crumpled. His chest heaved with sobs that he tried to keep silent. "Please, please Ben and Claire, please come," he said under his breath like a mantra. For so long just saying something made it so, but he knew that wouldn't happen this time. This time he was trapped.

And so were they. Ben and Claire needed as much saving as he did, if not more. Taking a shuddering breath, he twisted his bleeding wrists, searching for weakness. The demon said there was a way out, and for now Jesse had to hope he could take him at his word.

Forty minutes after the rumble at the road block, Claire sat in the familiar plastic discomfort of a police station chair. They called them 'interview rooms' now, but anyone who'd been in one at least once knew the true purpose of drab concrete walls and one-sided mirror. This wasn't her first rodeo in one, but she was still on edge.

Ben was nearby-that much she knew. He'd been brought in with her when they arrived at the station, and presumably sat in another room just like this one. He also wasn't a stranger to jurisdictional rules and how to slip through the legal loops; she wasn't worried about him as much as she was for Jesse. Different car, different cops... God only knew what they'd tazed him for, and where they'd taken him. Her only calming thought was that he'd jumped away from his 'escort' as soon as he was able. They'd meet him on the outside. Now, of course, it was just a matter of getting out. And quickly.

The door opened and closed behind her, then a cop rounded the table and sat down. He opened up a file folder and jotted down a quick note, then looked at her.

"Afternoon, Ms. Foster," he said politely. "We've got a few questions to ask you for our records."

"Am I being charged?" she asked him in an even tone, careful to keep it shy of irritated.

The officer's mouth pressed into a thin line. "We're having trouble pulling up the files from the network with it being Saturday. You're not in the database we have access to." Claire's eyes narrowed.

"So I'm _not_ being charged," she said flatly, sitting up a bit in her chair. "You can't hold me here."

"Well, we can hold you for obstruction," the officer said firmly. "But we can't hold you for aiding and abetting a counterfeiter until we can check the database on Monday."

"What?" Claire's head tipped deep toward her shoulder-her palms pressed flat on the table in front of her. _Counterfeiting_? Instantly her thoughts shot to Jesse and his wads of magical bills-it was a paper trail she hadn't anticipated, and a sour taste manifested in her mouth. Still, that was a secondary issue right now. They were on a time limit. "No. I know my rights... Unless you charge me officially, I'm out in twenty-four hours. So what is it?"

The officer scowled at her. "Listen: I need a statement. I can get that now and let you out straight away, or I can charge you and keep you 'til Monday. Either way, you're not gettin' outta here until we find out what's-"

There was a knock at the door and then another head appeared through it.

"Boss just paged down to say we need to let 'em go."

The officer stood up, his face still pulled in irritation. He disappeared out of the door briefly, leaving Claire alone again. She kept her relief relatively hidden until the door shut and echoed behind him.

Claire took a deep breath and let it out slow. What was next... _Find Jesse_. Then they could hit the road again. Stupid legal hang-ups caused more trouble than the honest folks who create them would ever know.

A few moments later the officer returned, his face a mask of politeness. "You're free to go, Ms. Foster. My partner will drive you and your associate to the impound lot where your car is waiting."

"_Thank you_," Claire didn't try too hard to keep the exasperation out of her voice. She pushed to stand and followed the officer into the hallway, keeping an eye out for Ben at every room they passed. The cop from earlier fell into step with her, giving her another polite smile.

"He's waiting outside in the cruiser already. Your associate," he clarified.

Claire sent the man a look, but it was short lived. The sun was almost blinding compared to the insides of a concrete room, even in late afternoon. She shielded her eyes from it, squinting toward the squad car idling on the curb right in front of the walk. Ben was in the back, and peering at her from the door, held open by who Claire only could presume was the aforementioned partner.

She wanted to ask them where they'd taken Jesse, but those sorts of questions only compounded the involvement of others-once she and Ben got to the GTO, they'd figure it out from there. So Claire eased into the hard plastic back seat, behind the wire guard that separated the front from the rear. Ben found her hand immediately.

"You okay?" he asked in a low voice. Besides the slight way she tensed when the cop shut the door, Claire nodded.

"Been worse," she added softly, though the implication of urgency was there. Her eyes met his when she squeezed his hand back. Ben's eyes moved out through the window again, his whole body tense as they drove. Minutes ticked by, stretching on much longer than necessary. By the time they started seeing signs to get back onto the interstate, Ben was fidgeting violently in his seat.

"_There's no way they're taking us to an impound lot..._" Claire whispered barely above a breath over Ben's shoulder. It'd been too long, and they were obviously heading out of town. Ben nodded in agreement, clearly alarmed.

"_What should we do?_" he whispered back. She rolled her lips together and watched the two officers from behind the screen. There could be a million reasons for the unknown detour, and at the moment, Claire didn't particularly care about any of them. They needed to get away... and fast.

Claire tried to sigh away her tension, but when it didn't work, she decided to use it. "_Follow my lead._" She discreetly kissed the side of his mouth, then snapped a look at the two men in front. Curling her hand into a tight fist, she started banging on the wire that separated them.

"HEY, any goddamn time now, fellas... His glucose tablets're in that car, y'know!"

The passenger cop looked back over his shoulder, meeting Claire's blue eyes. They were hard.

"Still got a ways," he replied, _mostly_ certain, but she saw his eyes shoot past her shoulder toward Ben.

"Then pull over and let us get a Twinkie from the gas station or you're gonna have a hell of a law suit on your hands."

"Please," Ben said firmly. "I haven't had anything to eat in three hours. I'm gettin' real nauseous."

The cop frowned in the window but in a matter of seconds his blinker went on. Instead of taking the ramp to the interstate, the cruiser eased into the parking lot of a near by BP station. Claire gave Ben's hand another squeeze before she slipped out, eyeballing the cop that held the door open. She didn't like the idea of turning their backs on them, but swallowed the unease down as she held the gas station door open for a 'nauseous' Ben.

"I don't know what's up, but we don't have time to figure it out right now." Claire's eyes already shot to the back, toward the bathrooms, hoping to see a fire-exit.

Ben nodded again in agreement, going straight up to the counter. "Hey, I know this sounds like a weird question, but do you have a back door out of here? Like an employee entrance?"

The attendant blinked in confusion. "Uhh... yeah, why?"

"We're kinda being stalked by this guy who thinks I ran into his car," Ben replied, sounding embarrassed and sheepish. "We just need a quick getaway. Help a guy out, yeah?"

"I... guess. Just go through the stock room and take a hard left. Can't miss it."

_Perfect_. Claire kept an eye on the two officers waiting by the car out front as she followed behind Ben, until the tinted windows were replaced by cinder block walls and metal shelves lined with over-stock. The back entrance spilled into a mostly vacant part of the parking lot, occupied by one two-tone gray 80's Ford pick-up. As Ben hopped into the driver's seat, she kept looking behind them, expecting the two cops to burst out the door, guns drawn. But they never did.

Ben yanked open the underside cover for the steering wheel, tugging his pocket knife out and yanking it through the tangle of wires.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he hissed under his breath, testing them. Sparks flew once, twice, and then the engine turned over. "Ha!"

The engine turning over sparked a bit more hope in Claire's eyes, torn from the still closed exit door toward Ben, then the ramp that lead to the street. Every nerve ending buzzed with apprehension, but she swallowed it down, at least until they were gone. "I saw a few back roads down about a mile... We can lose'em in there." God willing. No way this thing could out drive a police Impala.

"Got it," he parroted, heading for the exit ramp and taking off down the street. It was clear from his face that he was barely resisting the urge press the pedal to the floor and put as much space between them as possible.

"We gotta get the hell outta here. We can come back for the GTO, yeah?"

Claire paused, obviously uneasy with that idea. They had nothing on them, in the way of equipment. Weapons, their laptops, everything was in that car. But, he had a point. That'd be the first place people looking for them would go.

"Right," she said finally, watching their rear in the mirror out her window. No one seemed to be following them. It almost seemed too easy...

"How long 'til they realize we're gone, d'you think?" he asked, looking sideways at her, radiating anxiety. "Maybe we should just make a break for the interstate." Claire looked at him.

"I'm honestly surprised they didn't follow us in," she started after another pause. _Where were they taking us in the first place?_ the thought crossed her mind, but she kept it quiet in favor of a question that seemed a lot more pressing right then.

"And where would we make a break to? Jesse's still here somewhere."

"It's not like Mighty Mouse can't just find us wherever we are and zap in," Ben replied, frowning. "He mentioned in the car going ahead, maybe that's what he did. I told him not to, dammit, but when's he ever listen to me?"

That caught Claire off guard. She squinted at him slightly, her confusion not doing great things for the knot tied in her stomach. "He said that?" Most of her didn't agree, but there was that little sliver of doubt. Jesse could do some pretty potent damage when someone lit a fire under his ass. Getting tazed and tossed in the back of a car seemed to fit that bill. Still, it didn't click with her. He'd check with them first. _Wouldn't he?_

"We kinda..." Ben frowned then sighed, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "Fought about it a little. Krysta doesn't know, y'know? I didn't want her to see, and he got pissed about it."

"That, and God knows what the hell he'd be popping into..." Claire stated the obvious, that she was on Ben's side of that particular argument. There was uncertainty, and now a definite worry in her voice.

"Only thing we can do is just try'n get there as fast as we can," he said with conviction. "'N hope he finds us along the way. Pretty sure they aren't gonna let 'im call us." Claire's eyes remained fixed out the dusty pick-up's windshield for a long moment, her lips turned down in a thoughtful frown. She was forcing various scenarios through her head, and each one ended with the absolute need to, at the _very least_, get the GTO back.

"It'll be dark in two hours; we'll go back for the car then. If Jesse hasn't shown up by then, we'll go." She looked across the seat at him, seeking agreement. Ben was immediately tense.

"That's two hours we should be driving, Claire," he said, his voice a little strained. "We're wasting time waiting around."

"I _know_ we're on a deadline, Ben," she replied instantly, then literally bit the tip of her tongue to remind her of where he was coming from. Hopefully he could see where she was, as well. "You said yourself they're waiting for us-we'd practically be walking in with our hands tied behind our backs."

"_Fine,_" he growled out, turning the car sharply into the turn lane the moment he saw a sign for a hotel.

"You're still _here_?" A malevolent humor was in the familiar, gruff voice suddenly in the room with Jesse. The demon scoffed through a sneer in his casual approach to where he was bound, fixing the cuffs of his suit. "I'm beginning to think you _like_ it on that cross."

Jesse scowled deeply, though frustration pinpricked at his eyes. Blood caked on his wrist restraints was evidence enough of his vain struggle to get free. The leather was just belted too tight, and he had thrashed and bucked himself to exhaustion trying to break out, and it had been for nothing. He didn't know how long he had been at it, but the pressure of his bladder meant a couple of hours at least.

Tightening his jaw, he didn't say a word, not wanting to give the demon the satisfaction.

"So you _do_," the demon's grin was full of teeth and close enough to Jesse's face to smell the aftershave his meatsuit lathed on earlier that morning. Close enough to catch the bound man's reflection in pitch black eyes.

Then the grin was gone.

"You weren't made to be a masochist, you know-or a bloody _martyr_," the Suit scowled and spoke that last word with poisonous rancor. He turned his back on Jesse, casually striding to a nearby table. "So what are you waiting for, hm?"

Jesse's eyes couldn't help but follow him, his heartbeat ratcheting up. But he refused to answer. He'd been caught off-guard last time, but now he would be stronger. Now he wouldn't even make a sound.

The silence dragged on for a minute or two, save for the sound of metal scraping plastic-just the hint of movement, nothing specific. Yet.

Finally, the demon turned a look over his shoulder, then faced Jesse enough to lean on the edge of the table. His arms folded across his chest. "Is this you being _defiant_?" The demon's head tipped toward his shoulder, along with the faint hint of a chilly smile. "You even know what you're being defiant _against_?"

Jesse's teeth clenched before he spat, "You're a demon and you're fucking stabbing me."

"I'm _teaching you_, Jesse." The Suit pushed off the table, approaching again while obviously toying with something in his hand-but his black eyes were on his 'captive's face, and appeared every bit as honest as Jesse's acidic answer.

"You think those _other two_ would care enough to not only show you your true potential, but _encourage it_? You think they'd want anything to do with you if they had any idea how _powerful_ you are?"

The words hit a nerve. "_They_ make me stronger! And they don't have to tie me up to do it!" His arms pulled against the bindings, despite the sharp pain shooting from his wrists. "Don't feed me some bullshit about doing this for me! You didn't give me a fucking choice!"

The demon's smile twitched, but just barely. It was his only movement before the expression melted away in favor of something more calm. Almost commiserative.

"So why haven't you told them?"

Jesse's jaw clenched tight and he looked away, his chest rising high with each breath. The Suit just nodded, short and curt.

"Because then _they'd_ have a choice, wouldn't they..." He paused, putting the small object he'd been holding in his jacket pocket, then replaced it with a pair of thin leather gloves, wiggling them on one by one. "They'd pull out the Devil's Traps, maybe try to 'exorcise' you," once the gloves were on, he retrieved the thing in his pocket. A small syringe; the Suit showed it to Jesse.

"Spray you with this, if you got too close." He pushed down on the tiny plunger, a thin string of Holy Water zigzagged across Jesse's chest.

Jerking away with a hiss, Jesse's eyes went wide. He'd felt Holy Water before, and it was no worse than accidentally grabbing a pan fresh from the oven. What it could do to his insides was another matter.

"No," he blurted, even though it wouldn't make a difference. His elbows dug in hard, desperately pulling at the leather. The demon noted the creaking at the binds, but didn't show it.

"You know, they were released from the police station more than two hours ago," another short burst of blessed water trailed from the needle down the length of Jesse's side; the Suit kept talking.

"Without you around to influence them, what do you think they're doing, I wonder," he said with more than a hint of knowing in his tone.

Teeth gritted in a snarl, Jesse face turned red from exertion, the board rocking underneath him. There was a sudden snap and Jesse's fist went flying, connecting hard with the Suit's face. It impacted with a snap of bone and cartilage, and sent the man stumbling back.

"Told you to shut up," Jesse breathed, his hand instantly going to unbuckle the chinstrap. Jesse's anger was answered by nasal laughter, muffled by a hand over his meatsuit's bloodied nose.

"See how strong you are without them holding you back? Go head-try and focus on them," the demon sniffed and smeared blood across his cheek with his sleeve. "See what they're up to while you've been here... _suffering_." He held up two sets of fingers in deliberate quotations around that last word, then quite casually pointed at the floor-since he was unstrapping himself, and all. "Don't forget about that one."

Stumbling to his feet, Jesse glared as he clenched his fists. The ground shook and in a burst of dust, the cement cracked beneath his feet, right through the binding circle.

"Go to fucking Hell," he snarled.

As the man choked on black smoke, Jesse didn't stick around. His mind locked on Ben and Claire, he disappeared.

When Claire made the suggestion that they hide out for a couple hours until it was safer to go for the GTO, she didn't necessarily mean stake themselves out at a hotel. It worked out, she uneasily supposed; it was a stationary spot where Jesse could more easily find them, plus it wasn't hard to assume, if they were being looked for, that the local cops would check one of their own nearby places.

Plus, it gave her a chance to get rid of the grime of more than twenty-four hours straight on the road. Every muscle felt like it was threaded with wire as she peeled off her clothes behind the bathroom door, trying to forget the fact that she'd be putting them on again after getting clean. The water was _almost_ too hot to stand, and given the circumstances-it was perfect.

Jesse would be fine. The statement kept repeating in her head on a forced loop whenever her thoughts weren't occupied by plans to get the GTO back or what they would have to deal with when they finally found Ben's sister. It's only two hours. Two _necessary_ hours. _He'll understand_, Claire repeated in her head, turning her face up to the water and breathing in the heavy steam. He couldn't be sore at her forever.

Claire heard the door open and close quietly, then saw the tall, familiar shadow pass on the other side of the curtain before it settled on the toilet seat. The lid didn't go up, but Ben didn't say anything.

She watched the shadow for a few beats, mostly unaware that her breaths had tightened up a little. They'd been in close proximity like this before, but nothing quite the same. Things had shifted between them in the last week; she wasn't _just_ fond or attached to him, they weren't just _partners_... Still, something kept her from peeking around the curtain edge. Instead, she spoke gently over the hiss of the water.

"You alright?"

He didn't answer right away and when he did, his voice was so low she had to strain to hear it:

"I'm sorry I yelled at you in the car. I'm just..."

Claire's heart suddenly hurt. She closed her eyes and swallowed thickly.

"I know," her voice carried all of her compassion. Immediately, she knew she'd forgiven him, even if he hadn't technically done anything wrong. His apology sounded like a confession Claire needed to absolve him from. "It's alright."

He sucked in a hard breath, clearly stifling a sob. "I just don't know what t'do... what if they're torturing her? What if she's already dead, and I-" Again, his voice broke off.

The sounds of his anguish absolutely tore at her heart strings, and the sting of tears welled sharper than the hot water. "Ben..." Claire clenched her eyes shut before opening them again, and finally held the plastic liner aside, looking down at him. He was hunched over his own knees, but when he looked up to meet her eyes, the pain in his face struck her like a punch.

"We'll find her," she offered, but wished so badly that she could give him more. "And we'll keep them safe after-whatever it takes."

Ben nodded mutely in response, his Adam's apple bobbing as he pushed himself up to standing again. For a moment he looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he moved silently toward the door to leave. That's when Claire's hand, warm and damp from the water, eased out from the curtain to catch the side of his face. Her thumb drew softly across his cheekbone.

So many things swirled behind her eyes, but none made it to her voice. Her love for him and the torment she knew he was in combined to form a powerful ache centered square in her chest. It flared up, ten fold, when she turned her chin up to kiss him.

For a moment it was just that, a kiss to confirm that she was there for him, that she cared, that she wasn't going anywhere. Then something shifted and he was pressing back more insistently, almost desperately, pressing midway past the curtain and getting the top of his head wet from the spray of the shower head. His hands started frantically working the buttons of his shirt open, trying to undress as quickly as he could.

Claire's surprise was delayed and subdued by the torrent of emotion that had suddenly been unleashed, but it was still there. The curtain rings clicked together in the strain of being caught and pulled between them, and the chill of the tile wall reminded her of how much he'd actually moved. Just for a moment, her eyes opened, her breath held in a shaky pause.

But it was only a moment; the protective wall she'd built over the years finally crashed under the weight of everything they'd been through. She pulled in a breath against his lips, then deepened the kiss. One hand yanked the shower curtain out from between them while the other joined in the frantic removal of his shirt.

Between the two of them his shirt was quickly unbutton and shoved off, and he pulled back only briefly to rip his undershirt off over his head. The pants were much easier to escape from, and in no time at all the two of them were cramped into the shower stall. Wet skin pressed against damp skin as their hands scrambled to find purchase against each other.

It was happening fast; a blur of hard breaths and frantic hands that burned in her blood as an ache. Before she realized it, Claire's bare leg hooked on the outside of Ben's hip, the second after the weight of both of them pressed and slipped on the wet shower wall. She was swallowed by the heat, her emotions, and every grave his fingers dug into her skin, and his breath on her wet skin. The desperate, longing whisper of his name rode low on her voice.

With their difference in height, it wasn't an easy position to pull off, but Ben didn't appear to let that phase him. There was a risk of slipping on the wet ceramic tub bottom, but he remedied that by lifting her up and pressing her back hard into the cold tile beneath the shower head. Once she was fully supported he thrust smoothly into her, gasping hard, his grip on her shoulder so tight it almost hurt.

Claire gasped a tight "_Yes_," toward the shower ceiling; the mix of hot and cold sharpened the familiar pressure between her thighs she'd gone _so long_ without; it sent a sound of her surprise into the hot, humid air. Her nails sank in for a moment, tensing at his grip before it released, and her arm hooked around the back of his neck in a ploy for better purchase. She opened her eyes, drunk with longing, zeroed in on Ben's gaze.

The look in his eyes was one of deep concentration, his mouth hanging open and each breath labored as he moved both in and against her. Each thrust was jarring, his pace skimming the line of too fast, and he hardly looked tired from the exertion of supporting her weight. He groaned suddenly, his head tipping back his back and his eyes rolling.

Only they didn't go back to normal; they stayed white from sclera to iris. Claire's body felt wracked and trembled _everywhere_-her breaths came hard and labored, but no physical distraction in the world would make her miss _that_.

"_Ben_...?"

It took a half-second more than normal for that white-out stare to sink into her brain-but when it did, the sexual fog evaporated, and left her with a _horrifying_ clarity. The cops in the cruiser-they hadn't followed them at all. His insistence to 'go on' without all their protection, without Jesse...

_It wasn't Ben._

Claire went stiff in her sudden terror and alarm, her hands and nails planted and dug into his shoulders, torn between holding on and trying to shove him away. Out of instinct, she panted out a tight-voiced and stammering Latin: "_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiri_-"

The hand around her shoulder came up roughly to cover her mouth as he continued to piston into her.

"You don't want to do that, Claire," the demon said between labored breaths. "I'll make him bite off his own tongue, and then you'd be very sad. We're nearly finished, just enjoy the ride."

Despite the hard grip on his forearm, her desperate squealing dissolved into his palm, which didn't budge; being pinned like a butterfly on cork-board and water-slick limbs made finding a grip _anywhere_ virtually impossible, but Claire put up a hell of an effort. _Anything_ to hinder his driving into her. Wide, wild eyes rolled up toward the shower-head, then darted around them for anything in reach-

"You should be thankful that you love him and he loves you," the demon purred out. "Your friend's mother wasn't so fortunate. Silat simply entered her and stayed until he was born. That's what makes him so dark, but _our_ child will-"

Without warning, Ben was jerked back, sending Claire skidding painfully in the slick bathtub. He was slammed into the floor with Jesse pinning him down. "GET OUT OF HIM!" he roared.

Ben's body seized, his spine bending hard off the ground before a tunnel of gray smoke shot out of him, straight up to the bathroom ceiling. It wasn't too unlike a storm, the clouds twisting and forming into a fiendish shape before escaping through the vents. Ben gasped violently, scrambling and flailing hard to get away.

Jesse just pinned him harder. "Stop!" he ordered, Ben freezing. Shaking slightly, Jesse pushed to his feet, turning to the bathtub. He leaned over, gingerly taking Claire by the arm. "You okay?"

The metal faucet had dug a deep tissue bruise from where it caught her hip and side on her landing, sending spikes of pain in every direction when she moved. However, besides being a little stiff, Claire didn't seem to notice it right away. Her eyes were still wide, nearly electric with the lingering panic and awe. Her fingers dug desperately into Jesse's forearm when he helped her up.

She couldn't say anything, but nodded stiffly, and refused to let him go-only slid her hand into his and locked their entwined fingers as she stepped over the rim of the tub, and practically fell at Ben's side. Searching his eyes with a terrified abandon, her free hand on his face. Ben remained frozen where he lay on the ground, his chest rising and falling quickly, every muscle in his body tense and his eyes darting rapidly back and forth across hers.

"It was a demon," Jesse said, his voice quiet but echoing in the small room. He squatted next to them, keeping hold of Claire's hand but not moving closer. Then he realized why Ben wasn't reacting. "Oh. Y-you can move now."

The words were hardly out of Jesse's mouth before Ben was scrambling up and away, looking horrified and ashamed. He pressed into the wall and struggled to cover himself, shaking his head hard but soundlessly. Claire tracked him with her eyes until the look on his face sank in, and she had to close them against the acrid burn-tears she didn't even bother to hold back.

She was still tense and breathing heavy, the rock hard grip in Jesse's hand was shaking. For a long moment, she didn't seem to breathe, until something snapped in her brain. A sad calm washed over her face, though the tears still raced down her cheeks. She'd finally really noticed the state _Jesse_ was in-bloodied and naked.

It was with that same soft sadness that she stood upright and gently handed him a towel from the rack, then took the other one in her hand. She met Jesse's eyes for a moment, mouthing a whisper of _please don't go_, and very reluctantly let go of his hand, then turned toward Ben. Her face twisted up for a brief moment, but she swallowed the sob back, reaching out for him as she approached. Jesse watched, clutching the towel to him as he sat on the floor.

Ben pressed even harder into the wall, shaking his head again.

"No," he said in a broken voice. "No, just- no. I- just leave me alone. Please." His eyes moved past her to Jesse for the briefest moment, stricken. Once again, he owed Jesse everything for stopping him, but he couldn't find the words. All he wanted to do was run, as far and as fast away from them as he could.

Each gritty word from him pricked her already frazzled nerves like needles, but she didn't stop, only slowed a little.

"It's over, Baby..." she tried to push her voice past it's weak point, but it was desperate as her eyes were. The thought of the last time Ben touched her being under _those_ circumstances was absolutely crushing, and it showed on her face. She dropped to her knees at his side and cautiously - but determined - pushed back dark, damp hair and let her hand settle on the side of his face. He flinched hard and tried to back away again, but there was nowhere left to escape to; he'd backed into a corner. It was only then that he started to tremble.

"I can't, I can't, I can't-" he croaked out, his arms coming up over his head. It was too much. Everything was falling apart and he felt sick.

There was a time when Claire would've taken that reaction and backed off, but she was so far beyond that point, and there was no turning back. Not even if she wanted to. Her hand moved into his hair as she held tighter, got closer. The more he shook, the closer she pulled him.

"_I love you,_" she whispered, shakily into his hair. It was a plea as much as a prayer. "_I won't let them take you again..._"

Just that little touch was enough to shatter him. Ben's whole body quaked as he hyperventilated, not quite sobbing but very clearly falling apart. Never in all his years had he experienced something so terrifying, that had rendered him so helpless.

Worse still, he hadn't been the only victim. Of all the things that had flashed through his head, seeing Claire struggling from behind his own eyes had been the most debilitating. They were naked; he had a pretty good idea what had just happened.

"I'm sorry-!" he wept.

Claire continued to cradle him, tight as she could and shedding her own tears. She was just barely holding on, herself, but still hushed him under her breath, ran her hand through his hair, and pressed her cheek against it. At one point, her red rimmed eyes turned up at Jesse, desperate as they were whenever they looked at Ben.

"_You didn't do anything-we're still here,_" she promised with a little more voice, and one hand held out, beckoning Jesse.

Gingerly, Jesse slid over, keeping the towel in place. Every move uncertain, he finally settled a hand on Ben's shoulder, his eyes flicking between the two of them. For one short, angry moment, when he'd arrived in the bathroom and seen them, he'd believed the demon. He believed they fucked while he was scared and helpless, that they didn't even care what might have happened to him. Then he'd actually seen what was going on, Claire's struggle and the familiar pull at his stomach that now made him nauseated. He realized what was going on right away, but for that brief moment, he'd thought the worst of them, and now it ate at his gut.

"It's alright," Jesse said, his voice hoarse from use. He settled his other hand on Claire's shoulder, eyes meeting hers. "It's over. We're gonna be fine."

* * *

><p>It was her mistake to try and seal and bury what just happened without thinking it would resurface in some crippling way. It would be a moment of weakness that would bring a sort of pain she'd never known before; she knew better now, even if that didn't takeaway the fear that it would crush her some day.<p>

And _Ben_...

She looked at his hunched frame on the edge of the destroyed hotel bed, his face in his hands. The sight pulled even more painfully at her heart than she felt for herself.

Swallowing, she came up to his side and laid her hand on his shoulder, lowering to her knees in front of him. She took his hands with her and held them between her palms-just watching his eyes. She needed to speak; she _knew_ that, but couldn't quite get the breath past her throat.

Ben's hands remained limp in her grasp, and even unsupported his head remained tucked against his chest. The fractures of his possession were starting to find matching edges and piece up in his mind, starting with the glimpses of the look in Claire's face earlier - That sickening realization, that horror, that betrayal. _My fault, my fault, my fault-_

All of it, from the moment he'd gone home, had been a mistake. He'd brought all this on his friends. They suffered because of him, and he hated himself.

"Please look at me," she finally breathed. Her thumbs drew back and forth on the insides of his palms.

"How?" he whispered back. "How can you even meet my eyes, after what I did to you?"

"Because I know it wasn't you," logic and staunch memory gave her answer a little more strength. As terrifying as the crisp image was in her head, she forced herself to remember the details that made it possible for them all to get past it. "Not your hands, not your voice... Not your eyes."

Ben shook his head, his shoulders shuddering. It _had_ been his hands, and his eyes; he remembered the remote sensations of feeling and seeing, remembered the shivers of shared sensation as he beat and screamed furiously against the cage inside his mind. It had used his memories to get through to her, and his voice to speak and sob. And while not every detail was sharp, he experienced enough of it to burn him from the inside out, interwoven with the other terrifying things: Children being born, women screaming, the taste of blood and burning fire and pain; feeling the sticky wet ocher sliding through his fingers, feeling the bite of nails against his skin.

"But it was," he said hoarsely. "I was inside. I couldn't stop it, but it was still-..."

"What did it say to you?" Claire interrupted him gently, and through a tightened voice. It had happened-no matter how badly she wanted to yank the images from her mind, that wouldn't change the past, for either of them. It wouldn't change the things it foreshadowed, and after everything _all three_ of them were forced through, Claire had a new resolve. It wouldn't take them down. Every scrap of her emotional sanity rode on that determination.

"This wasn't random, it was calculated." Her hands squeezed his before one moved to the side of his face, gently angling it up so he'd look at her. _Stay with me_, her eyes plead with him. _Don't let it beat you._

It hurt to look at her. He loved her so much, but that final crest of declaration had been stolen, leaving them shattered. Maybe Jesse had the right idea, keeping himself at a safe enough distance. He tried to bring himself to pull away, but he couldn't do it. Not if it upset her more. He would do anything and everything she wanted.

"It wasn't words," he breathed.

Her thumb brushed his cheek slowly, back and forth, before combing back through his hair as she stood on her knees and wrapped her arms around him. There were more words, more details that needed to be covered, but nothing stood above her sudden need to keep him as close as possible.

For all that looking at her hurt, being touched by her felt infinitely comforting. He could almost believe that they could recover from all this. Ben pressed his face into her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her as tightly as he dared, wishing with everything he had that he could take all of this away from her.

If he squeezed her until she couldn't fit air in her lungs, Claire would've been perfectly fine with it-she could feel his heartbeat against her chest and the warm humidity of his breath near her throat, and could feel in every fiber that it was all _him_, and God-how she held onto that feeling.

"_I love you so much,_" she uttered into his hair, then brushed it back from her lips with her hand. "We're gonna beat this _together_." Though her words implied more the entire demonic conspiracy they were thrown in the middle of, beneath it was much more personal.

Ben thought to Jesse in the shower, how he had saved them three times, how he still stayed, still wanted them, but had so much fear lingering inside him still. It was all too much too fast. They needed time to absorb it all, but time was not a luxury they could afford. His sister needed him. _Suck it up, Braeden,_ he told himself in his hardest mental peptalk voice. _Stop being a little bitch. This is a job, just like all the other ones. They just made it personal. Make it personal right back._

He nodded mutely against Claire's shoulder, closing his eyes. Claire pulled back only enough to place her hands on the sides of his throat, the tips of her fingers grazed the unshaven scruff along his jaw so she could dip close. She'd kissed him since the demon was forced from his body, but _this_ had the same electricity of a hundred year separation. It made her eyes burn with an intensity she cherished.

Ben tensed under the press of her mouth at first, but in a matter of moments he was pressing back with equal fervor, his hands coming up to her face before pushing out through her hair.

He left her breathless, her heart pounding with a life that both sang and hurt in her soul, even though the memories still stung like fire. She could do this-as long as she had Ben. As long as she had them _both_.

"_We'll burn'em all,_" she nearly panted against his mouth with a steeled resolve, and kissed him again.

Ben felt his body respond to her, felt his blood singing with need that demanded satisfaction, and even in spite of the desperation to fulfill it, he forced himself to be careful and slow. Not like the demon; never again. He would avoid any possible chance of triggering her. Ignoring the instinctive protests inside him he gently pulled back, resting his forehead against hers and forcing himself to breathe slowly.

"Hell yeah we will," he affirmed. "Every last one. Count on it."

* * *

><p>It'd been six years since Claire was last in a tattoo parlor, but even in a different town several hundred miles away, this place smelled the same. Rubbing alcohol and floor bleach, maybe a touch of stale incense or cigarette smoke coming from somewhere in the back. Not to mention the unique buzz of a motorized needle.<p>

Claire was keeping her mind carefully neutral-or at least, _trying_ to. In the emotional maelstrom all three of them had just gone through were relevant facts that needed to be picked apart and put in order. They still had a long way to go, a lot less rest to look forward to, and Krysta was still in the middle of it. At least it kept her from focusing on the raw experience; the minute or two between seeing Ben's eyes whited out to the hurricane contained in the hotel bathroom-extracted by Jesse with barely five words. Like a cauterized wound, it scarred deep, but she couldn't afford to let that swallow her completely. Her talk with him afterward helped turn that fire outward, at least. The acidic burn of hatred was oddly comforting in the light of what happened. She meant what she'd said to Ben: for hurting his family, for taking his sister, for trying to take him from her-Claire would see them all burn.

For now, her focus to the only solid anchors in her life: Ben and Jesse. She insisted that Ben get the protection sigil inked on him permanently - like she had - as soon as humanly possible. That left her on the nearby leather couch next to Jesse as the artist plied his trade. He'd been much quieter than usual, only speaking when asked a question, and hardly then.

Right now Jesse's gaze was focused blankly on the middle distance, trying to watch Ben, trying to think of Krysta, and trying not to remember the things that lurked fresh in his mind, as distracting as seeing someone walk by out of the corner of your eye.

"Jesse," Claire's voice cut the sterile atmosphere like cotton, soft and benign. Her eyes weren't on him, though. She was looking at the black design on the inside of her wrist, now as familiar as the rest of her body was to her. The conversation was kept close, only in the short space between them. The pause after his name lingered as Claire rolled her lips.

"I know about your mom..."

The fuzz and white noise of Jesse's mind snapped away at the words. He turned to her, swallowing. "What do you mean?" She didn't look at him right away, fighting her own exhaustion with the will to carry on this conversation.

"How she was possessed," she continued with a piece of information he'd already given her, but met his eyes as she went on, just as gentle, if strained. "-when you were conceived and born."

Jesse stared at her, his chest feeling too small to catch a full breath. "W-what?"

Her brows pinched downward as she turned more toward him. That wasn't the face of someone who'd _known_... Suddenly Claire felt like her throat collapsed on itself; she swallowed hard to correct it, and at the same time reached gingerly for Jesse's hand. She had to approach this from a different angle. The timing felt horrible, but it was out now. There was no going back.

"It's how you're able to-" she rethought that, then continued. "It's how you were born the way you were. The demon in Ben told me."

Jesse pulled his hand away, his heart beating in his throat. Above the realization of what must have happened to his birthmom all those years ago, the much harsher thought hit him: Claire knew what he was. He felt frozen, as tied down as he had been just hours before. "What are you going to do?" he said, the words hardly getting out.

Claire's stomach felt twisted inside out with the way he looked at her, with the tone in his barely-there voice. Her now-empty hands tensely folded on her lap, and for a moment, she looked over at where Ben was being worked on, then returned her eyes to Jesse.

"_Nothing._" She pushed the heavy, spiky thing that'd formed in her throat down her gullet. A battle between instinct and experience raged behind her eyes, but it was all overshadowed by the choice she deemed much more relevant.

He swallowed hard. The honesty in her eyes shone clear, and he didn't know what he'd done to deserve it. "Please don't tell Ben," Jesse said, his expression still twisting between relief and fear. Claire's lips pressed hard and straight. She pulled in an uneven breath and let it out slow.

"_Baby, you have to tell him_," she whispered finally. She could see it was damaging in his face, on top of knowing exactly why he'd object-it made the whole thing even more painful, but she couldn't let it go. "There can't be any secrets here... every little thing, _they'll_ try to turn it on us."

"How?" Jesse snapped, his expression tightening as he looked at the floor. "It didn't matter that you didn't know before, why's it matter now?"

Claire closed her eyes, because they suddenly burned from the inside. When she opened them, they were focused painfully on his down-turned gaze.

"Do you trust me? Do you trust _us_?" Meaning her and Ben.

"Everyone lies now and then," he said, still not looking up. "And sometimes it doesn't matter if you mean well. I don't even trust myself."

"Well _I_ trust you," she added quickly, still keeping her voice low. "I didn't always-and now, even as it looks like you're trying to convince me otherwise, I still do. Yes, everyone lies now and then. Our whole damn lives are based on lies-but _this_," Claire made a gesture that included him, Ben, and herself. Then leaned in close, trying like hell to get him to look at her. "-is the one thing that we can't hide things in." This conversation bore a striking resemblance to the one she'd had with Ben the other day, and the flutter in her chest felt just as familiar.

"What happened to you before you made it back to us..." she asked again, but the look in her eyes clearly showed she wasn't backing down from a vague answer this time.

He ran his hands through his hair, his head hanging almost to his knees. "Not now. I don't-I can't. After this is over, after we get Krysta and everyone's safe, then I can talk." Until then, he had to be strong, and he knew he couldn't be if he let his mind linger. He finally looked up, meeting her eyes. "I promise, after that's done, I'll tell you and Ben everything I know."

Her eyes darted back and forth between his, caught in a heavy silence cut only by a long breath. Of all the things she could see in his eyes - nightmarish things he was protecting them both from - Claire couldn't tell if he knew the position he was putting her in. She begged him to see it with her eyes.

"And what if we get separated again?" she finally asked, barely above a whisper. The words practically hurt, just to say. As she continued, her voice continued to weaken. "You came back from what looked like a war zone last time- Ben'll have no idea what to do with himself, and I _still_ won't know where to find you..."

He clasped his hands to keep them from shaking, unable to look away from her eyes. It was no use, faced with her plea. "Alright," he whispered, his mouth dry. "When...when we're all alone." He'd have to let the chips fall and hope for the best.

Though it was still heavy, his words - and more so, his eyes - shifted a weight in her heart, and it became a little easier to breathe. Claire closed her eyes briefly with the relief of it, then wrapped her arms around his shoulders, drawing him into her for an embrace she needed as much as he did.

"_Thank you,_" she breathed shakily into his hair, and squeezed a little tighter.

He took a sharp breath at the embrace, though he didn't pull away. Unable to speak, he just nodded.

Claire held on for a lingering moment before gently pulling back to look at him. It wasn't hard to notice his tension, the exhaustion and weariness; they _all_ buzzed with it, not unlike that tattoo gun. She swallowed thickly, and her eyes were tired, but there was a fire behind them she no longer tried to hide.

"I won't let it happen again... not as long as I can still move," she croaked with all the painful honesty in her eyes, and brushing his jaw with the pad of her thumb. The thought of it made her sick, as desperately hopeless as she'd been when Ben was being rode by a demon.

His hand cupped her face as automatically as breathing. "Hey, this is _not_ on you," he said, his expression tightening. After what she'd been through, Jesse couldn't bear her even thinking she had any responsibility. "They caught us by surprise, that's all. Next time we get stopped by police, I'm just telling them to fuck off."

Claire's lips rolled in together when she wet them; a subconscious reaction in place of a sudden, and barely suppressed urge to kiss away his anxieties, however idealistic the compulsion. It was there, and strong. She closed her eyes and leaned her brow against his instead.

"There won't _be_ a next time..." she promised, even if it was more than she could realistically deliver. It was the promise itself that held the power of her words.

She wasn't in charge of him, and it wasn't her job to keep him safe. But Jesse couldn't deny the warm relief that washed over him. He closed his eyes, basking in the safety and closeness of her. "Thanks," he breathed.

They lingered there for a few more beats of her heart before Claire let her hand drift from his jaw down the side of his throat, and gave his shoulder a small, reassuring squeeze before she pulled back. Not much had been resolved, but she felt better. More calm; it was easier to focus. She turned her eyes toward Ben in his dentist-looking chair just across the small parlor.

Ben sat silent and still the entire time he was being tattooed, his eyes unfocused over the tattoo artist's shoulder. After all the pain he'd been through in the last month or so, it barely registered on his radar. What he did know was that it had been over two hours. That, added to the issue with the police and his possession, combined with the gap of time on the road that he still couldn't track, had basically taken an entire day away from them.

He also knew, without a doubt, that there was no way they were driving non-stop that night. They would put three cities between there and their next destination, but they would sleep in a bed that night.

"Finished," the tattoo artist suddenly said, looking up and taking a moistened bit of gauze to wipe away the newest beads of blood. Ben stared down at his chest and the spot over his heart where the pentacle encircled in flames now resided. The tattoo artist went on to explain proper care and treatment of the new tattoo, but he didn't hear her. All he wanted was something hard to drink and to get away. His eyes finally drifted up to his two friends.

* * *

><p>While he'd asked the two of them to sit, Jesse couldn't stay down. He couldn't even stay still. It helped. Walking up and down, avoiding their gazes, not seeing their reactions, it made it easier to talk about what he'd gone through. To separate it from himself. He was just stating facts.<p>

And when all was said and done, that was the easy part.

He paused in his pacing, fiddling with his hands. "And...and I wish I could say that I don't know why or how they'd found me, but the demon, he mentioned my father. And he's not the first," he said slowly, glancing their way for the first time since he started talking. If he prayed, right now he'd be praying Claire was right about Ben. He took a deep breath. "When I was eleven, I found out that I'm not human. Well, part human. And part demon."

He froze where he stood, waiting.

Claire sat on the bed beside Ben, her arm hooked under his with their fingers laced-the manner she'd fallen into a lot more often since the three of them were reunited that afternoon. Jesse's account of what had gone on when he was taken from them was like rubbing sand paper on raw nerves, but she stayed still and quiet. The same way she was now, as he divulged what he'd promised to say when he found out she knew. Claire closed her eyes for a moment and held onto Ben's hand a little tighter; a subconscious sharing of strength. She figured he would need it.

Ben remained silent a moment, his eyes slightly wide, but his face otherwise passive. What had happened to Jesse was horrifying and terrible, there was no denying it. But, when confessed to about what he was, Ben found himself... not caring. At all.

"My uncle jump-started the apocalypse," Ben said evenly. Most of what he'd learned, he'd gleaned from the books by Carver Edlund, but they still filled in all the gaps in his own personal knowledge. "But he also turned around and saved everyone. Billions of people, by sacrificing his soul. What's your point?"

Jesse was glad he was facing away because his face crumpled in relief. He took a few steadying breaths before turning to them. "Hey, first time I learned about it an angel tried to kill me. I figured it was kind of a big deal," he said, shrugging, the pleasure evident in his eyes.

Claire smiled at the obvious elation in Jesse's eyes, but said nothing. His comment unwittingly triggered the memory of her conversation with Kadiel in the hospital-her warning that she 'wasn't safe with them.' It was a warning she refuted then, and _now_, but the reminder sat awkwardly in her stomach. Among everything else they had to deal with that day, she refused to let it enter her heart-she just...breathed it away.

"Typical Jesse," Ben replied with the slightest smirk. "The world revolves around you, not the sun. Science has been wrong all this time."

"Glad you've finally acknowledged it," he said, though his smile hesitated. The warmth in the room seemed to surround him and he just wanted to settle into it. But he'd told Claire that he'd tell them everything, and there was one more hurdle to cross. Putting his hands in his pockets, he shuffled his feet.

"The problem with super powers is you don't always use them the right way. And..." When had it been? Yesterday? It felt like years ago. "When we stopped on the road and you couldn't remember what happened. That was me. We... we were arguing and I panicked and made you forget about it."

All the color in Ben's face drained, and his expression became unreadable. In a flash, all his memories from his conversation with his mother when he was eighteen hit him. He immediately felt sick and dropped his head between his knees. Claire took a breath in, but it seemed to get stuck. She watched Jesse, his eyes in particular; the small wave of renewed confusion and alarm that came with that whole _unpleasantness_ wiggled it's way back into her mind, but at the same time... in the light of all that'd happened _today_? Maybe it was the exhaustion, but there was likely a lot more to the reasons why she shook her head softly.

"What were we arguing about?" The words came out soft and tired.

Now if only he could find a way to say it that wouldn't start the whole thing over. "After we found Krysta, I wanted to head out for a couple weeks. I thought maybe some of the...stuff that had been going on was my fault," he said, feeling a blush rise to his face. "I wanted to go, get you away from my influence a while to make sure."

Ben had already felt ill when he heard that Jesse was able to wipe their minds, but hearing what it had been about only made him tenser. Ben looked at Jesse's face critically, his jaw tight.

"But you're not now," he said. It wasn't a question.

Jesse watched Ben like a bird watches a snake. Even after everything that had happened since then, the memory of Ben telling him to leave was like a punch in the gut. He didn't want to hear that again, but he also didn't want to lie.

"I don't want to leave, no," he said quietly. Claire breathed out, unaware that she'd been holding it in.

Ben was on his feet immediately. "You're not going," he said, his voice strained and tight. "No way in hell, you hear me? Not after all this."

Jesse just fought back the urge to back up. "W-would you let me come back if I did?"

Ben hadn't thought it was possible to feel so much anger, but he did and suddenly. It took all of his self-control to keep from shoving the man in front of him. "Well according to what you just told us, I wouldn't have a goddamn choice, would I?" he said icily. While he didn't shove him, Ben did crowd his personal space. "Do you care about what I want? What _we_ want? Or is it just about what _you_ want?"

Before Ben had finished his sentence, Claire was on her feet too, wedging herself between them. She faced Ben first, regardless of the fact she felt everything he did at the moment, regardless that he wasn't looking at her.

"That's not what he meant," Claire forced as calm a tone as she could, then looked over her shoulder at Jesse, putting everything she had left into giving him the benefit of the doubt-and a chance to understand why they were so upset-now, _and_ back then. "Was it..."

Jesse couldn't swallow. After all that, they were still reacting the same way. They acted all fine with what he was, but when it came to the reality, to dealing with his powers, they refused to understand. Ben was about to say those same words, and Jesse couldn't take it. He needed them so badly it hurt. "If you want me to stay, I'll stay," he said quietly.

"Of _course_ I want you to stay, you idiot!" Ben said his voice bordering on a shout as he reached around Claire to grab Jesse's arm. "Are you really so stupid that you can't see that? _Fuck,_ Jess, how many times I gotta say it? We _need_ you! We _want you_ here!" his eyes dropped to Claire between them. "_Tell_ him."

"He's right," she said, turning a bit awkwardly between them. "We _have_ done everything short of beat you over the head with it."

Jesse avoided both their eyes. "I already said I'll stay," he said evenly.

Ben scowled. Letting go of Jesse's arm, he gently moved Claire out of the way so he could grab Jesse's face and angle him up, forcing him to look.

"I'm not gonna put up with this pussyfooting bullshit, Jess," he said, his voice hard. "Like I said in the car: full range of emotion. And right now, I could easily do both of those things, and you're makin' it very hard for me not to." His eyes traveled back and forth between Jesse's as he spoke. "You gotta choice to make here: stay or go. I'm not trading my free will for yours. But sure enough if you leave, you're gonna be hurting us, and we wouldn't do that to you if it was in reverse. So what's it gonna be?"

Jesse's hands trembled but he shook his head in Ben's grip. "I don't want to go. And I don't want to hurt you any more. I'll stay," he said, though the conflict was still clear in his eyes.

"Good," Ben said gruffly. There was a sudden hardness in his eyes when he narrowed them. He let his hands drop away from Jesse's face, but he didn't step away. "Don't you ever fuck with my memories again," he added, his voice low and carrying the weight of a well-intended warning.

Jesse swallowed hard. "I didn't really mean for it to happen. Which is the problem."

"Can we _please_ put our dicks away and get past this?" Claire said finally from the edge of the bed. "It's resolved. Bigger things to worry about."

"It was a mistake," Ben said, forcing himself to relax a little and shoving the betrayal and anger down deep. Fighting about this now, in front of Claire, wouldn't help. It'd been a hard enough day without bringing his own personal backstory into all of it. "Don't do it again. Let's go to bed, yeah?"

Jesse let out a slow breath, nodding. He felt like he hadn't slept for days. "Sounds like a good idea." Deciding to forgo all the prep, he headed for the bed Claire wasn't already on, but she grabbed his hand before he could get two steps.

"Where ya think you're goin'?" Ben said, his words chasing the tail-end of Claire's action.

"To bed," he said, his wide eyes looking between them. "I'm not leaving. I said I wasn't."

Claire shook her head and pulled him back.

"Bed's this way," Ben replied smoothly, already pulling off his shirt. The new tattoo was still loosely covered by the gauze from the parlor and he carefully peeled it off. Claire smiled tiredly at Jesse, affirming what Ben had implied before releasing his hand.

"It's safer," she added quietly as she got to her feet and rummaged through her bag, producing a travel sized bottle of antiseptic lotion.

Jesse stood frozen, trying hard not to stare at Ben. "I don't- I just need sleep tonight," he said, though the very idea had sent his adrenaline running.

Ben rolled his eyes and gave him a bemused look as he spoke to Claire: "Have I ever tried to bang you while we were sleeping in the same bed, Claire?" She was quiet for a moment, but only briefly. A lot was going through her mind and her chest.

She took a breath and turned around. Jesse had her eyes, even as she stepped up to Ben and dabbed the ointment gently on the new ink. "We _all_ need sleep, Jess, and it's a lot easier on me if you were where we could reach you."

Feeling like he was watching something a lot more intimate than it was, Jesse's gaze shifted around the room. "It's going to be a tight fit."

"You'll just have to bite the bullet and spoon with us, then," Ben teased, his eyes finally going up to Claire's as he smiled faintly at her. She lifted her eyes from the gentle, circular touch over his heart, and practically revelled in the sudden, slight weakness in her knees. So relieved to have him back, to have them _both_, the look drifted to Jesse.

Swallowing hard, Jesse looked away quickly, deciding to just ignore it all. If they wanted him closer to keep tabs, then fine. He was just going to sleep. Stepping to the other side of the bed, he toed off his shoes before slipping under the covers, as close to the edge as he could manage.

Ben looked over at Jesse again and shook his head with a small sigh, then caught Claire's hand and kissed the back of it.

"Y'want the middle or the edge?" he asked her gently. Her smile twitched, a little warmer for the calm his affection brought to her frayed nerves. She squeezed his hand, then pushed her jeans down, whispering back.

"He's less likely to kick me," she teased both of them, even if she thought Jesse wasn't listening. Ben stood and went through the process of putting up the wards while she slid beneath the sheets. It wasn't long before the bed weighed down with all three of them. Natural as her tired sigh, her hand found a base line of comfort on Jesse's side under the covers as she felt Ben align himself against her back and encircle her with his arms.

The touch was so warm and casual, Jesse felt his throat close up. It promised safety, just as she'd promised she'd never let him get taken again. He'd almost believed the demon, when it said they didn't care, that they would destroy him if they knew what he was. Instead they'd offered nothing but understanding and friendship. Maybe even love. The relief and remembered terror ricocheted inside him until he could hardly breathe, his chest expanding in struggling hitches. He turned his face into his pillow as he felt the burn of tears behind his eyelids.

Drifting on that foggy edge of sleep, Claire didn't at first register the subtle twitch and shudder of repressed crying under her hand. It sank in subconsciously in the beginning, she thought she was dreaming until her fingers curled into shirt material on their own, and Claire opened her eyes.

Without a thought in her head besides the constricted feeling in her heart, her hand drifted around him and pressed her palm to his chest, pulling Jesse into her. Her cheek nuzzled against the back of his shoulder, a muffled sound of comfort and compassion vibrated there. That did him in. He shook with sobs, although they were mostly silent, except for the desperate intake of breath as each one was pulled from him. He wanted her comfort, even needed it, and this wasn't enough. He rolled over, burying his face in her shoulder and curling against her as though he was as small as he felt. He knew it was wrong to put this on her, when she needed just as much comfort, but he couldn't stop it now that he'd started.

Ben hadn't yet drifted out, his mind still going a hundred miles an hour, but the moment he heard Jesse's sob he was unable to simply remain still. Pressing a parting kiss to the back of Claire's neck he untangled from her, got up from the bed, and came around to the other side to settle in behind Jesse. His arms crossed over one of Claire's where it rested. Her other drifted slow through Jesse's hair.

Registering Ben's presence like the weight of a favorite blanket, Jesse let himself cry until the tears had drained him. He gingerly rubbed his cheeks on his and Claire's sleeves, shifting his face so it was easier to breathe but otherwise making no move to extricate himself. He had no reason to, enveloped by the warmth of their bodies and limbs. His breath slowed and deepened as his body relaxed into sleep.


	17. Episode 10: Daymare

Claire awoke slowly, her eyes opening and being met by the cheap textured ceiling of their Ithaca hotel room. A crack of daylight cut through the privacy curtain at the window, caught in a mussed spike of Jesse's hair, his arm across her stomach and using her shoulder as a pillow. Another larger hand, Ben's, dangled from over Jesse's arm. A craned-neck glance found Ben's face buried into the back of Jesse's shoulder, his face scrunched up a little as though he was trying not to wake up.

With a breath of a sigh, Jesse shifted on Claire's shoulder, trying to open his eyes, though his lashes stuck together some. The hand that had been under him came up to rub away the sleep, and that's when he noticed Claire looking down at him. His expression turned sheepish, a light blush crossing his cheeks, but he didn't look away.

"Hi."

"Hi," Claire's sleepy expression warmed with a tired smile. She hugged him a little closer, closing her eyes again as she sighed against his temple. In more than a few ways, this cramped hotel bed with it's scratchy sheets and flat pillows was more warm and comforting than the dream she'd just drifted back from.

"Don't be too loud," she whispered, her lips tickled by Jesse's hair. "Ben might hit you with a pillow."

He smiled, his thumb running unconscious circles against her stomach. "Think he's currently using me for a pillow," Jesse whispered back. His expression smoothed some before he said, even quieter, "Thanks."

"Will you two just make out already so I can go back to sleep?" Ben muttered into Jesse's shirt, his hand shifting where it was currently resting on Claire's hip to slide a little further up beneath her shirt. "God, you're so loud. I hate you both."

Jesse almost apologized, feeling guilty for waking him after all he'd done last night. Then he remembered this was Ben. Things hadn't changed that much. "Jackass," he teased before rolling back hard, pinning Ben under his back. Ben made a squawking noise, then immediately made a grab for his arms.

"Claire, go for his ribs!" he laughed, shifting a leg out from beneath him and wrapping it around Jesse's front. Claire had propped herself up on her side and an elbow, smirking at the show. She snorted when Ben called her into it.

"What're you guys, ten?" Of course, she wasn't too mature to grin through those words, but she wasn't about to leap onto that flailing pile of limbs with the bruise across her back from yesterday. That didn't mean she couldn't play along. She reached out and traipsed her fingertips along _Ben's_ ribs, though. Just to stir it up.

Even with such a small movement Ben immediately bucked beneath Jesse hard. It wasn't exactly an unpleasant sensation, but Ben immediately felt heat bloom in both his face and his gut, so he did what he always did when things were going a little too far: he took them one step further. His hands left Jesse's arms in favor of grabbing at his inner thighs.

His eyes widening, Jesse made a guttural sound at the back of his throat, flailing a moment for what to do before his hands found Ben's sides, tickling hard. Ben bucked again, his laughter high and near-shrieking as it joined Claire's, but he refused to move his hands. If anything, his grip only tightened.

"God help you both if you make me fall of the bed-" Claire huffed as she finally caved to the immaturity fest and stood on her knees, going for the soles of their feet. Ben's feet immediately kicked, but the move was almost useless.

"Always on- his side!" Ben gasped out under the assault, writhing like a snake under his captors. "I just- wanted- to sleep!"

Unable to get anything out beyond a squeal, Jesse twisted at the waist - half spilling Claire onto the bed in the process - his hands grabbing Ben's shoulders to try to leverage himself away from them. The move made him aware of an unmistakable pressure against his ass, and he made a point of grinding against Ben's groin even as he tried to escape.

Ben was unable to stop the noise the movement pulled out of him, every nerve in his body suddenly honing in on the source of the unexpected pleasure. His eyes rolled back in his head and his hips arched up.

"Christ-" he hissed emphatically. From next to him, Claire pinched at the inside of his arm, as much a reminder as it was force of habit, but her mind wasn't exactly on that particular action. It was enough to make him wince, but the pressure was still too good for it to be blocked out

From his twisted position, Jesse got a good look at Ben's reaction, if the return grind wasn't clue enough. A blush crept up his neck and he could feel his quickened heartbeat pulsing in his groin. Trying to ignore those sensations, he grinned at Ben, still trying to squirm out of his grip.

"You always wear a gun to bed, Ben?" he teased.

Ben's face - already flushed - grew a shade darker, but he couldn't find his voice. Was Jesse making fun of him? There was no way he couldn't know why his body was responding. He had half a mind to return the favor, but he could feel Claire looking at them, and that was just enough to stay his hand.

"Don't start what you can't finish, _mate,_" Ben said somewhat breathlessly.

Anyone could feel how the air had shifted, not that it was unexpected, but it brought a little more than lecherous teasing and flushed looks to Claire's mind-whether she liked it or not. As much as she wanted to nurture the deep warmth that spread from her gut to her cheeks and bridged across her nose, she pressed her lips together in a sharp, but loving smirk. Claire pushed up on the bed and slid off the end, landing a hard, playful swat onto Jesse's ass in the process-making sure she had their attention.

"He's right. We gotta get goin'," she said with her back to them, minding the stiffness in her back as she wiggled into her jeans.

Blushing furiously, Jesse rolled off of Ben and onto the bed. Or at least he tried to, but Ben's hands were still tight around his thighs. "Um. Mate."

"Problem?" Ben said into his ear, smirking before he nipped the shell of it and finally letting go with a small shove at his shoulders.

His breath hitching at the nip, Jesse scrambled off ungracefully, his face as red as a beet now. He didn't comment, though, heading for the bathroom.

* * *

><p>Ben had the first leg of the driving, but fortunately they didn't have much farther to go. If they didn't stop except for bathroom breaks, they could get up to Maine that night. It was a very, very small window.<p>

It was driving him crazy. The _only_ thing keeping him from losing his cool was driving.

Claire was locked in a staring contest with the open laptop on her knees, studying the spiderweb of trails and dirt roads that apparently surrounded this massive Maine lake. The cherry sucker she bought at the gas station twenty miles back clicked against the back of her teeth, once, when she rolled the stick from one side to the other.

_This isn't gonna be easy_, the thought parroted in her head for the third time in an hour. She'd looked at seventeen different maps taken over the last fifty years, and each one was different.

"The topography keeps changing," Claire spoke around the lollipop, shaking her head. "Everything from the roads to the size of the damn lake..."

Leaning up from the back, his arms folded over the top of the front benchseat, Jesse frowned slightly. "We could drive around it. I'm getting a good feel for when demons are near. Don't know how close I have to be though."

"Claire, how do you feel about off-road driving?" Ben asked, not looking away from the road.

"In _this thing_?" She looked up at him and popped the sucker out of her mouth. "We wouldn't make it over the first ditch."

"Okay, next chance we get, we get bigger tires," he muttered, then sighed, running a hand through the back of his hair and up through it.

"We could take another car?" Jesse said, looking back and forth between them. "I could just ask to borrow one of those bigass kinds from someone." Claire looked at both of them like they'd briefly lost their minds.

"Have either of you ever been to the woods in New England? You can barely walk through the trees, let alone drive something through them."

"I don't normally go this far north," Ben admitted. "Not a big fan of the cold. I mean hell, it's May and it's 60 out right now. That's devilry."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Jesse said with a smirk. "So what do we do? Run around the lake until we find something?"

Ben took a deep breath and let it out. It was a lot of ground to cover, and a very large lake. He knew that the quickest way to look fast would be to split up, but he didn't dare suggest it. Not after what had happened the last time they'd been split up. He took a breath to speak, but suddenly the phone buzzed out on its generic ringtone.

"Shit-" he blurted, struggling to pull his phone out of his pocket. The car swerved slightly in the process before he finally pulled it out and flipped it open.

"Braeden."

"_...is-is this Ben?_"

Ben's brows furrowed. "Who's this?" There was a slight pause on the other end.

"_Um... This is Rosie Holt?_"

Ben's eyes immediately widened. "Oh! Hi!" He fought to calm his voice. "How's it goin', Rosie?"

There was yet another pause-a little longer, this time.

"_You need to look for a place with...these...really small houses._" Her voice was tight, like she was cringing as she spoke.

Ben nearly ran off the road, causing Claire to nearly spill her laptop and grant him a sharp _pull the hell over_ look that obviously was ignored.

"Claire, get a pen. Write on your arm if you have to," he said aloud, turning the phone away from his mouth for a second. "What else?"

"_Small boats, too._"

"Small houses and small boats." Ben frowned. "Are you sure you didn't just fall asleep watching some show about dollmakers?"

"_You want my help or not?_" came a quick and rather irritated reply that even Claire heard from her side of the front seat.

Gripping tight to the bench seat, Jesse looked over at Claire with wide eyes. "Who's he talking to again?"

"The redhead from Starbucks," she hushed back at Jesse, _typing_ everything Ben relayed, so long as they didn't fly off the road and congeal them all into mashed metal and meat.

"Yes, sorry, I- sorry. Rose, my angel, my flower-"

"_Ugh, stop. Just-don't do that again,_" Rosie's tinny voice floated through the phone speaker. "_It gets weirder... You ever see that old movie, The Ring?_"

"It is the stuff of nightmares, but keep going," Ben answered, his face pulling in a frown.

"_Well, I see that. The Ring-but not a ring, it's square. Everything is dark and I can't hear a thing._"

"A door maybe?" he asked, his mind running through all the possible locations that would have all those things.

"_No, not long enough. It's, like, perfectly square._"

Ben nodded, though he knew she couldn't see him. "So a square, backlit in light. And you saw it from the opposite side, yeah? Did you hear or feel anything?"

"_It was quiet... Really quiet, and really cold-look, I gotta go, I'm on my fifth cigarette break of the shift because'a this..._"

Ben's frown deepened, but it was more concerned than upset. "Okay, yeah. Thanks, Rosie. Remind me to grab you a cuppa coffee next time we drive through Erie."

"_Thanks, but I hate coffee,_" she lightly joked. "_Be careful._" Then the line went dead.

As Ben hung up, Jesse started breathing again. "So we're looking for the stuff of nightmares? That's comforting."

"She said it reminded her of _The Ring_" Ben said quietly, turn the music back up a little bit more. "Sounds more like _Friday the 13th_ to me. This is becoming worse and worse by the minute."

Claire stayed quiet for a moment, her eyes on her screen as her fingers tapped away. "Does that mean we're gonna have to rent those movies?" Clearly, she didn't understand the reference.

"Maybe after this is all over," Ben replied. Though in all truth, he wasn't sure he wanted to relive this whole experience in any medium.

Jesse scowled, nearly as lost as Claire. "So...does that help us? What're we looking for?"

"A place by the lake with little houses and little boats, and some sort of hole in the ground with a square... something. Maybe a door, but not a regular door-" his brows furrowed as the words finally clicked in his head, "-like a cellar, or an exterior entrance to a basement."

"Little houses and little boats?" Claire stuck the sucker back in her mouth-it was easier to type that way. "Sounds like a Girl Scout camp."

Ben felt his pulse quickening. "Good as any place to start lookin'. Time to put your google-fu to the test."

Claire was already typing when her head shook; the curtain of her hair blocked out the way her nose wrinkled. "...google-_fu_?" More tapping followed, then a pause. "Nothing. Looks like it was made a forest preserve back in the 90's that lost funding in '03."

Jesse leaned further over the seat, feeling supremely useless. "So she's got her at a camp full of little girls?"

"I sincerely hope not." That thought was more disturbing than Claire wanted to venture into, but glanced over her shoulder at Jesse. She rolled the sucker to the other side of her mouth and hoisted the laptop up so he could see the most current satellite picture over the big lake, criss-crossed with the faint lines of trails, old and new, and the harder, more solid evidence of larger roads.

"See if you can get anything from this," she suggested. Jesse wasn't a psychic, but he was able to hone in on her and Ben without much problem. It was worth a shot. Ben immediately tensed up.

"No, we shouldn't separate," he said stiffly. Claire looked at him.

"I wasn't suggesting we do..."

Jesse's stomach tightened at the thought. He might have suggested it before, but things were different then. He focused on the computer, not entirely sure what he was hoping to happen. "I'm not seeing anything," he said after a while. He swallowed. "Best I could do is focus on Krysta, try to go to her, but I don't know if that'd even do any good."

"We're just gonna have to do it the old fashioned way," Ben said. His nerves were slowly twisting into a knot again. How long would it take them to comb the area? Another day? Just the thought made his heart stutter, and he quickly flipped the signal to pull off onto the shoulder.

"Someone else needs to drive."

"I can do it," Jesse said quickly. He didn't want to do any reading or get handed a computer and doing nothing was grating on his nerves.

Ben left the keys in the ignition and pushed the door open. Cars whizzed past on the highway, displacing his hair and making him lightheaded for a moment. His hand immediately moved out to the hood of the car as he tried to steady himself. Claire had stepped out to stretch her legs a bit, as well as let Jesse out of the back, but it wasn't hard to see that little bit of unbalance.

She drifted behind him, the palm of her hand was warm on his back, and drifted between his shoulder blades. Nothing was said, but she let the touch linger. Something in Ben's chest clenched and unclenched hard. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe.

"I'm okay," he said after a moment.

"I know you are," she replied softly. She let her nails scrape soothingly down his spine before she pushed her hand through her hair, wild from the highway wind. "C'mon... get some rest. We'll be there soon."

Sliding from the backseat, Jesse watched them from where he stood behind the door. He wasn't certain what to do, or if there was anything he could do. Except drive. That he could do for Ben.

As Ben and Claire separated and Ben stepped around him to get into the backseat, Jesse grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze.

Ben looked down at him, his lips twitching automatically into a smile he didn't really feel. He was grateful that they were supportive, but it didn't change the fact that they were cutting it closer and closer. He was scared. Without another word he slid into the backseat and settled into the corner.

* * *

><p>Rarely had Claire ever experienced darkness like this. Like a living thing, the northern Maine midnight swallowed the beams ahead of the GTO as it wound slowly around an endlessly winding road. The blue arrow on the dash mounted GPS followed their progress: a single line on a field of nothing. Even technology had no idea where they were.<p>

Which to her meant they were close.

"Next time we get a chance, let's get some night-vision goggles," Ben murmured. The radio had gone quiet hours ago, not that he'd been that interested in listening to music by that point anyway. His thoughts had narrowed; nothing else in the world mattered anymore but getting his sister back. They'd hit the 24-hours mark.

Despite the urgency of the situation, Jesse was exhausted and fading fast. His eyes kept drifting from the road, so it was a while before he noticed it. Even then, at first he thought he was imagining it, or at most it was just a reflection. But the light was steady, even from this distance.

"Is that a car coming our way?" he asked.

Ben turned to look over his shoulder at him. "Dude, we're in the middle of the wilderness. Unless moose suddenly come equipped with headlights, I doubt it."

"Yeah, then what's that?" he said, leaning forward to point out the window. The closer they got, though, the less he thought it was headlights.

"I don't see anything," Claire said, squinting into the dark. Still, on instinct, she let off the gas.

"The light right in front of you," Jesse huffed. "It's not on the road, though, it's off to the left some, coming up in thirty feet or so."

"You're going delirious, get some sleep," Ben replied, his voice a little strained.

"_You_ need sleep if you can't see what's right in front of you," Jesse said, getting testier. "Look, there's two of them now! Stop the car and just look, would you? They're glowing like-" He froze a moment before his head snapped to Claire. "Like the thing on your chest did."

Though pulling over in this blinding darkness wasn't Claire's first idea of a smart move, Jesse's correlation to the Enochian seal on her chest hit more brakes than just the left pedal on the floor. Her heart jumped and her stomach bottomed out all at once.

"He's seeing sigils," she explained to Ben as they pulled over, even if it wasn't needed.

"Nice trick; _why are we stopping?_" Ben demanded. "We have to keep going, come on, c'mon-"

"They're like what I saw when we were at the college!" Jesse snapped for real this time. He squinted out Claire's window, wishing Claire had turned the headlights so he could see better. "I think they're drawn on the trees. They're wide enough apart...I think it might be a road."

Claire pushed her lips together and looked out into the ink-blackness. She didn't want to waste time, any more than Ben or Jesse wanted to-and she sure as hell couldn't see any road. However, the urgency in Jesse's voice prompted a quick, closer look. She grabbed the Maglite from under her seat on her way out of the car.

"I still don't see anything but trees and leaves," she called back to the door she left open, trudging through a bit of brush between two of the trees Jesse'd claimed to be marked, turning slow to give the area a sweep of the flashlight. Ben was out of the car just as quickly, though he made his way to the trunk to pop it open and grab for the pre-packed bag he'd made at their last rest stop.

Crawling over the top of the benchseat, Jesse headed straight for Claire and the lights. They were there, about eye height, strange sigils glowing bright as day. He couldn't imagine not seeing them. And then he looked at Claire.

"Your-your chest," he said, swallowing hard. "It's glowing, too." Claire's face fell in a frown.

Ben hefted the bag up on his shoulder, looking toward Jesse immediately. "What?"

"The-whatever on her chest, the glowing circle! It's glowing again!" Jesse didn't bother to point this time. It's not like they could see it.

"Guess that means we're close," Claire stepped out of the brush toward Ben and the bag. The moment she crossed the invisible line between the two trees, the ethereal mark on her breast disappeared.

Jesse sucked in a breath. "It's gone again," he said, feeling like some bizarre sports commentator. Claire's brows furrowed, but she stopped in her tracks.

Ben looked between them, feeling a creeping sensation between his shoulders and an itch to move.

"Well that settles it, then," he said gruffly, opening the truck one more time and finding a bag of salt. He immediately started to make a circle around the car.

A chill ran down Jesse's back but he tried to shrug it off. This was what they came here for, after all. Turning to Claire, he said, "Stay close."

* * *

><p>The advice turned out to be harder for Jesse to follow. With only Claire's sigil as guidance, they walked through the dark woods for hours. Jesse never would have described walking as exhausting before, but he was barely keeping one foot going in front of the other now, stumbling over branches and dead leaves and gopher holes.<p>

It was only a matter of time before one got him. He hit the ground with hard grunt, unable to even summon the breath to swear. Part of him just wanted to stay down, let them go on without him, but he pushed up to his knees.

Ben was at his side in an instant, looking equally worn out but also running on fear and adrenaline. He almost dragged the other man up, but he knew they were getting tired. They couldn't fight on fumes.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Fine, fine," Jesse said, waving him off as soon as his feet were under him. He started forward again, knowing if he stayed still too long he might not be able to get going again. Ben frowned, catching him by the elbow.

"No you're not, you're dead on your feet," he murmured. "Claire, hang on."

"We're not stopping because of me," Jesse said heatedly. He wasn't going to be the reason they didn't make it in time.

"We have to rest," Claire barely chimed in. She'd stopped a few paces ahead and could barely imagine lifting her foot for another step. Nearing twenty-seven hours without any actual sleep, they were all dead on their feet.

"You two can go down for four hours," Ben said firmly. "I'll keep watch."

"You need sleep, too," Jesse said, his irritation making it sound more like an accusation.

"We'll take shifts," Claire injected calmly, from fatigue and her own sense of order. She was already spending the last of her energy coiling a salt circle around them and a large, sprawling oak.

"Shifts for a four-hour rest? No," Ben countered. "I'm fine. I've had enough coffee and Monsters to fuel the Israeli army. You guys need it more than me."

"Fine; we'll see how you feel about that after an hour of sitting." She looked directly at Ben, able to be knocked over by a stiff breeze, but completely unwavering on her compromise.

Jesse's eyes looked between Claire and the circle she was making. "Do we have to use salt?" She didn't glance up as she answered.

"Not much of a choice," the line on the grass connected. Claire tucked it away and leaned heavily against the tree, making her way down to sit. Then the thought hit, delayed a lot more than she was comfortable with. Claire looked at Ben, then Jesse, concern in her eyes.

"...can you cross salt?"

Jesse ran a hand over his face. This wasn't exactly a time he wanted to talk about it. "Yeah, it just fucks with me a bit. As long as you break it before we leave, though, I should be fine."

Ben smirked slightly. Claire just snorted lightly, then thumped her head back against the tree, looking softly at Jesse.

"We'll break it, don't worry."

Jesse shrugged, sitting with a slight scowl. Despite the chill, he took off his jack it, rolling it up and tucking it under his head as he lay down. Claire looked down at the back of his head, and nudged his shoulder with her knee to get his attention. A wiggled finger beckoned him to use her lap as a pillow, so his jacket could be a blanket.

If he was less tired, he might have blushed, but he was well beyond that. Twisting around, he settled his head comfortably on her, tucking the jacket over his shoulder. Claire settled back a little against the tree trunk and without any conscious thought, the tips of her fingers brushed back through Jesse's hair, twice, then stilled between his head and her lap. Any remaining tension eased out of him at the touch, and the combination of exhaustion and comfort had Jesse asleep within minutes.

Ben stood a few feet away with his back to them, staring out into the darkness. Four hours of silence... he knew from past experiences in stakeouts that it sucked massively but at least then he'd had light music playing, some coffee, and a somewhat comfortable chair. He bit back a sigh, taking a few quiet steps around the perimeter of the circle as he tried to run through scenarios in his head.

Time moved by at a snail's pace, and after two hours of standing, Ben finally succumbed to sitting down. From there he progressed to resting nearby Claire and Jesse's sleeping forms. There was nothing around but nocturnal animals in the deep woods. _Just close your eyes for a bit. Not sleeping, just... resting. Just for a minute. It'll be fine,_ he told himself, allowing his head to nod a little.

Unbeknownst to the sleeping trio, the woods around them dimmed in volume as several dark shapes approached them. In no time at all they were surrounded. Two of the young men in the group stepped carefully over the salt line very carefully looping a length of rope around Jesse's extended ankles before signalling to the eight other bodies on the other side of the rope. Moving as one, they swiftly yanked Jesse after them and started off into the woods at a run.

It wasn't the worst way Jesse had woken up that week, but it was close. He gave a yell of shock, not sure if he was in another dream as the dark world spun past him. A wave of very real nausea hit him, though, and the realization that he was being taken away.

"Claire!" he yelled, frantically grabbing at the ground as he was dragged far too quickly. "Cla-"

The wind was knocked out of him as he hit a rock.

Unfortunately, Claire's reaction had been slowed by the deep sleep she was ripped out of as well as the handful of assailants that set upon them the second Jesse was out of reach. Her mind and heart raced, chaotically out of sync, _especially_ when a pair of cold hands clamped around her wrist and yanked her, yelping, away from the tree. Another pair tried to swing a heavy length of rope around her ankles before she felt her boot connect with a shoulder.

The shouting was all the wake-up call Ben had needed and though that hour of sleep put a thick fog in his head, his body was very familiar with what needed to be done. He struck out instinctively, moving towards Claire's voice and throwing an arm around the neck of her second attacker before he felt three sets of arms grab for him as well. Not knowing if they were demons or not, Ben immediately snarled out the rituale romanum.

Jesse was snarling, too, managing to roll on his back, the scrapes and cuts on his stomach already healing. "Let go!" he yelled, gritting against the fresh pain to his back. "Let me _fucking_ go!"

But the people dragging him just kept going, like his words had no affect. His heart jumped in his throat but he tried to batter the panic down. He had to get away, back to Ben and Claire. His arms out and eyes watching, he grabbed for a passing sapling. The jerk against his sockets pulled a yell from him but he managed to hold tight, the people pulling him yanked off their feet. He scrambled for his ankles, loosening and pulling the ropes off him. But that gave his captives time to recover, grabbing his arms and pinning him down.

In the back of Claire's mind, the realization struck that the whole attack had not only started silent, but _continued_ to be; even when she landed a solid kick to one of her assailant's kidneys, followed by an elbow to the nose of the one behind her, they neither spoke nor shouted-not even a yell of pain.

One came from her, though, when she craned a look through the darkness for Ben or Jesse and caught a _hard_ right hook across the jaw. Pain and dizziness exploded under her cheekbone and the momentum sent her awkwardly down to one knee. That's when she felt the weight of the rope again, this time on her chest-then swiftly garroted around her throat.

The rituale hadn't worked. Jesse's shouted orders hadn't worked, either. That only really left Ben one final option. After struggling free from the two bodies and the partial pin, Ben grabbed for his gun and fired at the nearest one in the back of the knee. She went down instantly, making a wordless noise of pain, but the others didn't even flinch.

"Goddammit, _stop!_" Ben shouted as another body launched at him. When it came too close, he aimed and fired a second time. The bullet ripped through the male's shoulder and out through the other side.

Claire gritted her teeth, bared in a growl of effort and flaring anger as she both pulled at the rope and tried to buck away from the one behind her. The harsh echo of Ben's gun followed by his barked out orders didn't fill her with confidence, but one thought was clear enough in her mind. If she went out, there would be no recovering from it. Desperation at the growing specks of light in her eyes from the choke-hold caused Claire to let go of the rope and reach for her pistol. She held it down by her thigh and angled back to the one she could feel behind it, and fired.

Her gasp for air was lost with an unfamiliar shriek of pain when the rope when slack; coughing, Claire held her weapon out at the other two coming at her. Where her eyes were wild and sparking with contained fury, the _very human_ eyes watching her seemed almost dull... And like drones, they just kept coming; her warnings went completely ignored.

Jesse's words were just as useless as he thrashed to free himself. There were too many of them, coming too quickly. _Get out, get out, get out,_ screamed on a loop through his head.

And then he stopped thinking and let his body take over.

It was as effortless and seamless as it had been against the vampires. His hand got free and that was all it took. Every punch, every kick was perfectly placed, scattering his captors. When he was on his feet, he became unstoppable. He fought with bone-crunching strength until they all had fallen back, and then he took off running back to Ben and Claire.

It took a few more shots before Ben and Claire's attackers finally responded, disappearing just as quickly as they came under the thick cover of darkness. Ben's chest heaved, his face flecked with spattered blood, some his and some not. He moved over to Claire, his eyes rapidly scanning her face.

"You okay?" he panted out. The rapid sound of approaching footsteps interrupted however, and Ben brought his gun up sharply in the direction of the new arrival, only to lower it when he saw that it was Jesse.

The sharp intensity in Jesse's eyes faded when he saw Ben and Claire were alright, and he sagged to his knees, just short of the salt. It was only then that he took in the dead body on the ground. "What are they?" he rasped, his heart still pounding in his ears.

Claire's mental state was still catching up; most of the fight had been out of instinct laced with natural panic, but a stomach-sinking clarity had reached her eyes by the time Ben searched her face. Like Jesse, she was focused on the one that hadn't made it back to the darkness.

"Human," her voice was half-swallowed. The woman on the ground was pale and wan, _before_ she died. She looked unkempt, and in clothes that may have fit at one time in the not-too-distant past, frayed and thin from over-wear. Claire suppressed a shudder she could feel in her bones; the sight reminded her of a war photo.

Ben swallowed hard, carefully moving up her sleeves. No marks on the arms. Then he checked the back of her neck, but there still was nothing.

"Where's the flashlight?" he asked, looking up. Claire reached for the Maglite she'd hooked on a belt-loop before they stopped to rest. She handed it to him and he twisted it on, passing the beam over the dead woman's face. There were deep scars near her ear, and Ben suddenly felt ill as he inspected them a little more carefully.

"I think..." he said hoarsely, swallowing around the bile he felt rising from his gut. "I think they were deaf. Are deaf. Look."

"They wouldn't listen to me," Jesse said, the realization dawning, his breaths coming short and shallow. "I thought they had to be something, because they wouldn't do what I told them."

"Can't do what you're told when you can't hear," Ben said hollowly, pulling back. They didn't have time to deal with the body properly now, not with the knowledge that the others were still out there in the shadows.

"At least we know now that we're close."

* * *

><p>The gray wash of dawn coming through the trees was a mixed blessing; at least the blackness wasn't so complete, that they could actually see the dim stretch of an old road they'd stumbled on an hour before first light. Dawn also meant, however, that time was still moving. The last of the sand was running through the hour-glass; they were down to the wire.<p>

The forest was tomb-still when the road opened up beneath a wooden sign that arched over it from two stripped trees, too old and weathered for Claire to make out clearly, save for the word 'Camp' at the end. The vine-choked buildings and crumbling tent platforms that surrounded the overgrown clearing were a further testimony to what this place had been at one time. Claire kept quiet, but as she stepped gingerly over dead and tangled grass, her pistol poised and aimed low, she notched this place as one of the creepiest sights she'd ever seen.

Gritting his teeth to keep himself focused, Jesse spread to the side as the campground widened around them. The place looked like it hadn't been touched in ages. If it weren't for the strange people who'd attacked them, he would have been sure it was empty. At this rate, though, he had no clue what to do. He looked to Ben.

Small cabins lined the narrow road leading in, all facing outward toward the lake. There were even a few overturned canoes on the shoreline. _This is it. This is where Rosie said she'd be,_ he thought. But where?

"Let's check the main building," Ben proposed. Even using a voice very near a whisper, it sounded like a shout in such an empty, quiet place. "Stay alert."

The old door looked like it would collapse to splinters if she touched it the wrong way. Claire eyed it cautiously, trying to see through the spiderweb of broken glass that served as a window. Everything inside was dark and still as the woods, but naturally, none of them trusted it. Her gun extended just beyond her hand as she grabbed gently for the handle, twisted, and nudged it open.

Nothing moved, not even the air. She tipped her head to get a better look, and slowly crossed the threshold. Before her extended gun had hardly crossed into shadow, a hand lashed out and grabbed her wrist, twisting her arm up behind her back with unnatural strength and speed. Before Claire got the chance to even look at her attacker, her arm was jerked up hard. There was a sickening pop, and Claire's short, animal-like scream.

Ben brought his gun up sharply, his pulse off at a gallop at the sound. "Claire!"

Gasping hard and blind to _anything_ but the tearing pain in her shoulder, Claire was marched forward, her attacker holding her firmly from behind and peering just a little bit around the side of her head. She flashed a pearly smile in Jesse and Ben's direction.

"You made it! I was beginning to think you wouldn't show."

His reaction was a bit slow, but Jesse opened his mouth to get the bitch out of there.

"_Ah-ah-ah_, not so fast, honey," the demon they knew as Abbey said with a little jerk on her catch for emphasis. Claire's vision washed with white and red sparks-breath completely stopped in her throat. "Not if you care about the little girl. If I don't check in with them in ten minutes, they'll kill her, deadline or no deadline."

Ben froze instantly, panic etched into his face and fire in his eye. "Where's my sister!"

"Oh, Ben, you got so very far on your own. It would be a shame to stop playing the game when you're this close," she said, her other arm snaking around Claire's middle. "Now, we're going to go have a little chat, girl-to-girl, and you boys can just keep looking."

Panic flared through Jesse. There was no way he would let Claire out of his sight. It would be the same as losing her forever. With a glance at Ben, hoping he wouldn't hate him for risking his sister, he took a breath.

Eyes going wide with anger, Abbey tipped back her head and smoke came rushing out, bailing before she could get banished. The vice-grip on Claire's limp right arm went slack as the demon's host dropped like a bag of potatoes. The jerk from gravity sent lightning into Claire's shoulder, drawing out a hard, shuddering cry as she stumbled back over the body and caught herself heavily against the door frame.

Ben's eyes widened to the size of saucers before he turned wildly on Jesse, his voice near-screaming:

"WHY! WHY DID YOU DO THAT!"

Jesse flinched before clenching his jaw. "She was going to take Claire!" he snapped, pushing past Ben to get to her. "And I didn't _do_ anything, she just left!"

Knowing subconsciously that Jesse had Claire covered, Ben raced off around the side of the house, looking frantically for any sign of the square door Rosie told them about. Claire had one hand on her elbow, trying to see through the stinging film of involuntary tears. It was disturbing, how sudden and total her loss of focus had been; even more so as she tried to take it back when all her body wanted to do was hyperventilate.

The woman on the ground wheezed and coughed, the sound wet. A quick look in her direction found blood dribbling out of the sides of her mouth and her chest moving with uneven breaths.

"Shit," Jesse breathed, looking between them. Claire looked bad, but the woman looked like death warmed over. And Jesse didn't know how to push a shoulder in. "Just-just wait."

He leaned over the woman, his hands hovering uncertainly over her body, not sure how he could help. "What hurts? What can I do?"

"What doesn't hurt would be a shorter list," the woman rasped out, giving another wheezing cough and turning her head a little to spit. The blood was thick and coagulating. "Got hit by a car...dunno when. It's all in pieces. Can't... see."

Shrugging off his jacket, Jesse gently placed it under her head. How much did people remember when they were possessed? "Did you see a little girl? We're trying to find her."

"Yeah," she answered, her body giving an involuntary shiver. "She's close. There's... a storage basement. Near the camp leader's cabin. They..." she coughed again, hard, and didn't stop for half a minute. Her whole body was shuddering. "Convert down there. So much screaming. Be care-" and then she sucked in a hard breath, the sound choked off before her body went rigid.

"Claire," Jesse said, his voice tight with panic. "Claire, I think she's- What do I do?"

Claire had been barely able to focus on the scene in front of her. Sagging against the frame, still breathing hard and clutching her arm like it would snap off if she eased up, her reply was rasp and delayed-but for a different reason. She met Jesse's eyes, her lips pressed together as she shook her head solemnly. Even from there, she could tell the woman was dead.

Jesse's mouth went dry, his heart pounding in his ears. He had to do something, he couldn't just- The camp leader's cabin.

Springing to his feet, he ran out. "Ben! Ben, she's in a basement! By the camp leader's cabin!"

* * *

><p>Having not found anything behind the main building, Ben had already been making his way back to the front. At hearing Jesse's words, he looked around frantically. Which one was the <em>leader's?<em> It wasn't like they were _labeled_ or anything. There was one that was closer to the main building, and he immediately sprinted toward it at a tilt, racing around the back.

Their shouts were muffled by the roar of her own pulse in her ears, but Claire could still catch them, thanks to the adrenaline and endorphins that shock finally started to release in her blood. It took _just enough_ of the edge off to find the strength to let go of her arm and reach down for the gun she'd dropped.

"Go on. Stay with'im," she gritted at Jesse when she noticed he'd turned back toward her. The pistol scraped the wood as she worked back up to her feet; she used the door frame as a latch to reset the flange. "I'm right behind you..."

Jesse still hesitated, but he knew Ben was going into the lion's den, gritting his teeth, he took off after him, his head spinning with exhaustion. By the time Jesse finally caught up, Ben had found the door and was in the process of opening it. His face was pale and drawn, fear and anger equally present in his features. There was no light leading down the shallow steps. Ben took a sharp inhale and proceeded downward without acknowledging Jesse, his gun drawn and held ahead of him.

Both wishing he'd gone first and glad Ben didn't ask, Jesse followed right on his heels, holding tight to the handrail. As they got to the bottom of the stairs, his eyes took a while to adjust to the poor light, a combination of lanterns and bare bulbs. He saw a lump on the floor, and another, and another, and then his brain finally recognized the lumps as kneeling figures. Their near-blank, reverent faces turned toward a single point; a dark haired man who's eyes caught the dim light like shards of glass at the back of the room.

"Shhhh..." His voice hissed with the sort of extreme cold that burned, his smile spread slow, and turned down into the dark hair of the adolescent girl 'sleeping' against his shoulder. "She's had a rough week."

Ben grew as taut as a drum. Krysta wasn't moving and from where he was standing, he wasn't even sure if she was really even breathing.

"What did you do to her?" he spat, his voice low and cold, and his gun arm ramrod straight.

Jesse froze. He knew that voice. He had never heard it in person, but he knew it all the same. The room seemed to blur out of focus and it was all he could do to keep from listing.

The man cradled Krysta with an almost convincing affection, grinning back at Ben and his gun before his expression cracked into an emphatic shrug. "Nothing a few doses of Thorazine wouldn't do. _I_ thought she'd rather enjoy a few days in this lovely wilderness, but..." he shook his head, the white-toothed grin spreading on his lips again. "You know the set of _pipes_ on this thing? Far too shrill for my taste."

Then, his gray-green eyes focused on Jesse; a twinkle of hard recognition in them. Jesse swallowed hard, clenching his fists to keep them from shaking.

"Let her go," Jesse said, his voice quieter than he would have liked. "We got here in time. Give her back." The man scoffed lightly, jostling Krysta a tiny bit in the process.

"Unfortunately, with _that_ little defilement," His free hand gestured toward Ben's chest, then dropped it to his knee, like a disappointed boss. "-plans change." The man paused, still as stone, as if he were listening to the very rock that surrounded them.

"Where's the other?"

Ben's eyes flashed in fury. "None of your damn business. Give me my fucking sister. _Now._" He turned his gun off to the left, pointing it at the nearest bowed head. "Or I start killing off your precious livestock."

The demon stiffened, but only in his eyes; a hesitation that barely registered. "Your _fucking sister_ will be dead before the first one drops. Don't presume to test _me_, Benjamen. I couldn't care less whether you live or die at this point, but the only way your precious screamer here is leaving is if I get something I want..."

The muted echo of a gunshot filtered down the cellar stairs and into the room, followed by unintelligible feminine shouting. Jesse spun around, his eyes wide on the door.

When he faced the man again, he didn't speak quietly. "Tell them to back off! Now!" he snapped the order.

The demon's expression was calm, and almost smoothed the rugged features of his host's angular face. He watched Jesse for a moment, then rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, as if he could actually see through the ground above them. Another shot rang out, distantly.

"That'd do as much good as it did if you did it yourself. Clearly, it's not working for _her_."

Jesse gritted his teeth. He was done with this shit. "Get out of here! Go back to hell!" Nothing happened. The green eyed man simply smiled at Jesse with a breed of affection.

"I would be happy to, Jesse. Once my affairs are in order, of course." With that, he looked expectantly at Ben, the cold-fusion fire back in his eyes. "I will be quite sore if you ruin _her_ as well simply with your dumbstruck waiting-so what's it going to be?"

"_Fine!_" Ben bellowed. "Whatever you want, I don't care! Just give me back my sister!"

The demon smiled like a shark, slow and full of teeth, and even tipped his head cordially. "Best go get her and bring her here before they tear her to shreds."

Ben stayed in place, finally shoving his gun back into the side holster. "Jesse, go get Claire," he said in a low, angry voice.

Jesse hesitated only a moment before rushing up. There were a few more shots barked off before the two of them came in, the cellar door slamming with an awful finality. Even in the dim, naked light, Claire was paler than normal; her right arm useless, and the knuckles of her left whitened around the handle of her gun. A sense of relief washed over her when she and Jesse took the stairs, but it evaporated when she was able to take in the scene laid out before her.

Right away, she stiffened, her instincts blaring like a neon sign.

"Good boy," the demon said fondly at the sight of the blond woman at the door, though just who the praise was aimed at-Ben or Jesse-remained vague. He signalled toward Claire with his free hand-the kneeling figures that surrounded them suddenly sprang to action, heading straight for her.

"NO!" Ben shouted, pulling his gun out again and framing Claire with his body. "Do whatever the hell you want with me, but not her! Leave her out of this!" The silent minions ignored his orders, several pairs of hands already clawed into his arms and shoulders to pry him away from their riled and confused target. The demon rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Haven't I made myself clear, Benjamen? I _don't need you_."

Shoving a couple people back, Jesse took a step towards the demon. "_You need me!_" he snarled, his eyes steady. "And I can pop out of here any fucking time I want, so back them off now!"

The statement was wrapped in two assumptions: that haunting Jesse's dreams meant the demon wanted him more than Claire, and that after the salt Jesse might be able to get away. But the doubt didn't show in his eyes.

The demon watched Jesse with the same sense of calm, silent and deliberating. Plans and pathways were being erased and rebuilt behind his unchanging eyes, but a faint, not wholly unpleasant smirk etched his features. The vessels didn't relent in their advance against Ben and Claire, completely ignoring Jesse. Claire yelped harshly in the dark-her pistol clicked uselessly.

Suddenly the solid stone floor beneath their feet shuddered, a very obvious vibration that seemed to catch the attention of every pale and wan minion in the room. They snapped their eyes to the demon, who swept his hand across the air in front of him. Collectively they stepped back, leaving Claire to stumble in a heap on her knees, clutching her arm and on the edge of her own consciousness.

"Come to me," the demon smiled at Jesse, unceremoniously spilling Krysta from his lap as he reached for the young man's hand. "We go together."

Panic and fear filled Ben, his attention pulled too many ways at once. He quickly moved to pick up his sister, but his eyes were glued to his friend. "Jess-"

"You have to let them go. All of them," Jesse said, not looking down at Ben. He was already only hanging on by a thread, his hands shaking, and he didn't think he could stand facing either of them.

The demon looked mildly disappointed at Jesse, but stood up from his makeshift throne, gesturing toward the at-attention vessels. "They'll do nothing. Unfortunately I have no way of controlling those up top." He extended his hand-his gaze expectant and even.

Swallowing, Jesse lowered his eyes, though still not looking directly at Ben. "Will that be enough?" he asked quietly.

"_Jess-don't_..." Claire's voice barely registered through her labored breaths. Almost every bit of her concentration was diverted to fighting the shudders of shock. The demon's face brightened in the slightest degree, though he kept his eyes on Jesse.

It felt like the world was collapsing around him. Ben swallowed hard, trying to think of his options. At least ten surrounded them when they'd been in the woods, and there had to be at least 20 around them now. There was no doubt in his mind that there were more. He had Krysta unconscious and Claire halfway there. The chances of them all getting back to the car were damn near impossible without Jesse.

But they had no choice. If the ones below stayed still and they were quick, maybe they had a chance. Ben swallowed around a rock in his throat and forced himself to nod.

It wasn't much, but it looked like it was all he could give them. His eyes flicked to the offered hand, knowing exactly what would be waiting for him. It was enough to hesitate, even knowing Ben, Claire, and Krysta's lives were at stake. But it wasn't enough for him to run. He grabbed the demon's hand, and they both vanished.

None of the slaves - it was the only word Ben could think of to describe them - moved, even after their leader left. Ben felt his breathing quicken.

"We gotta move, Claire," he said in an unnecessarily hushed voice. He gently resettled Krysta so she was lying flat on her back before going over to her. "And I need you-" he took her limp, useless arm with both hands, adjusting it so her palm rested on her knee, "-to stay with me. Okay? Don't pass out."

Claire was barely holding on, caught between the hazy knowledge of what had just happened and every chemical in her body insisting on it's inevitable forced rest. She was hunched over her knees, her eyes closed-if she opened them, the room would spin and it'd be over. The stress was unrelenting and too much. But the lengths of her hair that curtained her face twitched as she nodded, and went still with held, anticipatory breath.

"I want you to focus on moving your toes inside your shoes, okay?" he said in a rush, moving one hand beneath her arm and the other to brace her shoulder. "Can you do that?"

"_Just do it!_" she gritted, hard and desperate with what felt like her last breath. Every touch on her arm, no matter how gentle, pulled a hundred fold on the already strained and stretched tendons around her shoulder joint. Ben clenched his jaw and swallowed hard, moved one hand to her elbow to stabilize it, then firmly yanked down hard on her forearm. All the blood rushed away from Claire's face as she audibly sucked in breath. Half a second later it released in a howl of pain that stiffened her whole body.

When it was over, and the flash fire in her shoulder had burned itself down to a hard ache, Claire supported herself by the palm of her good hand, trying to force the fireworks out of her eyes. Ben didn't bother waiting for the go-ahead from her, moving once again back to Krysta and scooping her up in his arms. Lifting her from a flat position while running on near-exhaustion almost knocked the wind out of him, but he managed to get fully upright again.

"C'mon, we gotta go, we gotta go!"

The daylight burned Claire's eyes for a brief moment, but it was a welcoming wake-up call. They both were almost completely spent, physically and emotionally. They were slowed by Ben's sister's unconscious state, and to top it all off-Claire was out of bullets.

Her right arm felt infinitely better than it had before, but it was still fairly useless-barely able to lift it's own weight, all three of their protection relied on Ben's pistol in her recessive hand. And the first thing she zeroed in on were the _several_ silent slaves that'd been closing in on her as she guarded the cellar entrance. Ben moved as swiftly as he could without running, knowing that they had a good long walk back to the car. He was tired and aching, and his best friend was gone.

_Just a bit farther,_ he told himself. Three bodies appeared in front of him as he rounded the side of the building.

"Claire?" he called, his voice high and strained. She was right behind him, and lifted the gun in her unsteady approach, attempting to fire three uncertain shots into the right foot of each one as they approached. One barked out, and a bloom of red exploded where the bullet hit home.

It was followed by two empty clicks. In her desperation, Claire almost chucked the damn thing at them, but instead, herded Ben in the other direction-where they were faced with five more. They were trapped.

"Goddammit," Ben hissed. He knew in his heart that this would happen, and that had been why he'd insisted Jesse stay with him. With three, it would have been effortless, even without his ability to order them around. With two... Ben kissed Krysta's forehead, hugging her close.

"I'm so sorry, Krys," he whispered. "I'm so, so sorry. I love you, okay? I hope you can forgive me."

In spite of the inevitable, and their being herded against the wall of a crumbling Mess Hall, Claire kept herself between their attackers and Ben carrying his sister. Her heart hammered hard at the top of her throat; forced calm and planning were impossible at this point. All she could concentrate on was pain, panic, and chaos... and the little voice that sparked in the back of her mind. _God, please help us_.

There was the sudden flap of wings, and then in the space between them and their attackers a familiar figure appeared. Claire barely had a moment to respond before she felt two fingers press at her brow. In the space of a few heartbeats she was transported back to the GTO in the woods. A glance over her shoulder found Ben and Krysta in the backseat.

"Drive," Kadiel commanded.

Shock and exhaustion aside, the sheer surprise might as well have been a nose full of cocaine for what it did to Claire's sudden energy boost. Barely breathing, she broke free of her fog and snatched the keys from their spot over the dash and peeled out onto the road as soon as the engine roared to life.

* * *

><p>When Jesse opened his eyes again, he was facing a graveyard. A large monument rested in front of him, its door intricately designed with one sole lock in the elaborate shape of a pentagram. The demon stood just off to his left, his hands settled low in his pockets as he studied Jesse's face. Jesse didn't return the gaze, folding his arms against the chill.<p>

"Graveyard, huh? Way to be original," he said, his jaw tight.

"Oh, not just any graveyard," the demon answered, smiling evenly. "This is an entry point. One of many. I found it... suiting."

Jesse's eyes snapped to him, overly wide. He didn't have to ask where the entry led. "I'm not going. You'll have to kill me first."

"Oh no, don't misunderstand me," the demon drawled. "I want you here. I've always wanted you here. Others will be coming through the door, though, once you've retrieved the key and taken your rightful place. Foot soldiers, in addition to the army I'm making you."

The laughter that bubbled out of Jesse verged on hysterics. "Yeah, I saw all that when you sent me that fucking dream. You're mental if you think I'd ever do that, lead some crazy demon army. Even if I was in this fight, I wouldn't be on your side."

The demon's brows arched slightly and his head tilted as he took a step forward, angling his body toward him. "All this time you've been alone, Jesse," he said in a near-hypnotic voice. "Always drifting, never able to settle. I can feel the uncertainty and fear in you. You cringe away from your gifts. Why live a life like that, when you are so much _more_? You were meant for more than this life, son."

Jesse's insides tightened. "You _aren't_ my father, and you know shit about my life," he said, glaring. "And if not wanting to get _fucking stabbed_ means I'm cringing away from my 'gifts,' then yeah, I'm cringing and I'm not going to stop."

The demon gave him a measured look. "That family you spent your early years with? Was a mistake. A wonderful one for you, I'm sure, but they held you back. Your mother told you as much, but those..." his lip curled back slightly, "..._hunters_... corrupted your mind. I am not so unreasonable. I would have kept them safe, had you simply come to me freely. And as for your temporary captivity," his face relaxed again. "That was a test of your endurance. I apologize that you experienced physical pain, but once you let yourself go and come to your full potential, you will learn. All these mortal needs will fade away."

"So now you're some wise and caring guru?" Jesse practically spat. "You kidnapped a _child_, you nearly killed Ben's mom, you hurt my friends, and what about those mutilated zombies you use like cannon fodder? All that seems pretty fucking unreasonable to me."

The demon sighed and shook his head gently. "That's the trouble with the help these days: they go to extremes. All I asked was that they bring you to me, nothing more. I could only do so much from the office." He smiled slightly again. "The people at Canavilla were vessels for our enemy. They had to be neutralized. Such is the way of war. You'll understand in time." His brows once again arched in subtle question. "Feel free to punish Abbey, if you can pin her down. I encourage it, in fact."

Jesse's expression wavered just a moment before he shrugged it away. "Yeah, I'm thinking the best idea is to do the opposite of anything you say."

The demon gave a small shrug, turning his eyes back to the door in front of them. "Suit yourself. She will not relent in her mission, that I can say with certainty." He paused, his expression turning thoughtful. "We all have our parts to play in this war, son. Our enemy is looking for you, just as I have been. The difference being that they will kill you, whereas all I wish to do is give you what you've always wanted."

Licking his lips, Jesse looked away, his mind automatically going to the angel Claire had talked to. If he hadn't been gone when that happened... "I avoided them before. I avoided you all before. I can do it again."

"You don't sound so sure," the demon replied loftily. "And are you so sure that your friends can be hidden?"

His hands fisting at his sides, Jesse took a step towards him. "You really don't want to start in with the threats, _Dad_. You take them out, I take you out."

The demon's face pulled in an expression of surprise. "Oh, not from me. By now I'm sure you know that they are both Chosen. One day all too soon they will be called upon and have to make a choice, just as you will."

Jesse swallowed. He'd accused Claire of planning on leaving them when the angels asked, and she hadn't denied it. He didn't know what Ben would do with the same question. "Well I've already made my choice," he said, turning around and walking down a line of graves.

"Have you?" The demon asked, a single brow arched. "I wouldn't suggest making one so hastily. These things take some time anyway; there's no rush."

Stopping in his tracks, Jesse counted to ten in his head. He just wanted to get out of there, but he had to make sure the demon didn't go back before Ben and Claire got away. _If they got away._ Swallowing down the thought, he turned around. "Yeah? Whatever war you're working on can wait until I've made up my mind?"

The demon smiled serenely at him. "You are not the first. You won't be the last. But you are, by far, the favorite of all my children, past, present, and future."

Bile rose in his throat, his expression twisting. He bit back the urge to snap back that he was no child of his. "What makes me so special?"

"Because you're the one that got away," the demon said slyly. "And because you will succeed where the others failed."

Jesse's eyes narrowed, his stomach giving a flip. "How did they fail?"

The demon licked his lips and took a breath to speak, but then went silent. His brows came together.

"A story for another time, maybe. It seems our time is up."

_Shit._ "What happened to the ones that failed? And why won't it happen to me?" Jesse said quickly.

The demon flashed him a feral smile. "When you're ready to talk again," he said, pulling a card out of the depths of his inner pocket, "draw this sigil in a circle of chalk, anoint a chalice with oil of Abramelin, and burn this card along with powdered Acacia within it. I will come to you."

Without another word, he was gone.

Jesse clutched the card, shaking slightly in his hand. He knew he should just tear it to shreds where he stood. But...it could be useful. The demon clearly had plans, and they might need to find out more. He frowned slightly. Ben and Claire probably wouldn't see it that way. Feeling a little guilty, he tucked the card into his wallet, behind the picture of his parents.

Hoping Ben and Claire would be there, he focused on the car and disappeared.

* * *

><p>Claire was currently in a bed nearby Krysta, asleep under the influence of heavy painkillers. Krysta had stabilized once they pumped her stomach, but was also asleep. Ben had called his mother, who was currently on a non-stop flight to Saint-Fabien-de-Panet, Québec to meet them and take her daughter home.<p>

Ben was trying not to have a nervous breakdown.

By all accounts, he should have passed out from sheer mental collapse and exhaustion, but he couldn't. Not until Krysta woke up or his mother arrived. He _would not_ leave either of them scared and confused.

Jesse stopped in the doorway, two paper cups in hand. After the race to the hospital, with a quick stop so he could sweet-talk their way across the Canadian border, he was feeling rather at peace. Things were as good as they could be. Except for Ben. He almost wished they'd put Ben in a bed right next to Claire and given him his own round of sleep meds.

"Here," he said quietly, waiting until Ben looked up to hold out the coffee.

"Thanks," Ben replied, his voice low and barely above a whisper. Wordlessly he emptied the cup, his hands shaking when he clenched it in his fist and ducked his head over his knees again.

His heart giving a wrench, Jesse set his own cup aside before sitting at Ben's feet, resting a hand on his knee. He gave it a squeeze. Ben shuddered in response.

His sister was alive and safe, and his mother had recovered by a sheer act of desperation through Claire and Kadiel, but he still couldn't handle everything that had happened. It was all too much, hitting him too close to home. Worse still: there would never be an escape from it. Never. Even if he had entertained the idea of returning to a normal life, he couldn't now.

"Hey, c'mon, wuss," Jesse said, his voice soft despite the words. "Everyone's fine. It's gonna be fine."

Ben made a choked noise, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes and shuddering again. All it took was two short breaths and he crumbled, his whole body shaking with dry sobs.

Pushing to his knees, Jesse hugged Ben hard, his cheek resting against his shoulder. He'd been there just the other night and knew that words were useless at this point. Just the press of his body seemed enough to ease Ben's shaking, but it was a long time before the other man calmed.

"I have to tell them goodbye," he said hoarsely.

Jesse frowned, pulling back, but his face still just inches away from Ben's. "What're you talking about?"

"All of this happened to them because of me," Ben rasped. "I can't keep them safe."

"You jackass," Jesse said fondly, leaning his forehead against Ben's. His expression quickly tightened, though, his eyes closing. "It wasn't you. It was me. They were after me."

"Then why attack _my_ family?" Ben asked him, heat in his words. "You never even met them before my birthday. It wasn't- you had nothing to do with it. Don't do that."

"That's what the demon told me." Jesse practically snapped the words. "He said everything happened that way 'cause he told them to get me there. They knew you'd go after your family, and that I would follow you."

Ben stiffened at his words. They did little to improve how he felt; in fact, he felt worse. The demon had been after Claire, too. Claire, Jesse, his sister and his mother had all been affected because of him. The realization chilled his blood.

"I'll go," Jesse said, still not looking up. "It'll be safer for you and Claire, for your family. He's only going to keep sending people after me until I do what he wants."

"You know," a tired voice floated from where Claire lay cocooned in hospital sheets, looking just this side of drugged-up, but quite lucid in the eyes. As usual, they were gentle. "I love you both, but you need to see beyond your own noses." One hand snaked out from the covers to rub at her eyes. "This thing is bigger than us. "

Jesse pulled away, sitting back on his heels as he turned to Claire. "I know. It's war," he said, grimacing. "But all we gotta do is figure out how to stay out of it and stay safe." Claire let her eyes fall on Ben, then settled them back on Jesse. Her gaze carried the weight of her sigh; both sad and loving.

"We were already in it, Jess. We always have been." The arm not immobilized in a sling pressed down into the bed, helping her to sit up. "And the only thing separating accomplishes is making it easier to pick us off, one by one."

"I can't be in two places at once, Claire," Ben said in the same hoarse, broken voice. He pulled back a little from Jesse's frame but didn't completely extricate himself. "My family's a target now. How'm I supposed to protect them? I can barely protect myself."

Claire's voice gained a little strength as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her eyes never left Ben's. "I would tear Hell apart to keep your family safe, Ben-_both_ of us would," she tipped her head faintly at Jesse, but kept her eyes on him. Ben chewed viciously on his lips as he listened, but didn't interrupt her. The little amount of time she'd known the Carters didn't matter-because they were loved by Ben, they were the closest thing she and Jesse had to family left on this earth. She just prayed Ben understood that. "-but who's going to make it safe for them if not _us_? What did I say to you in that hotel room: we'll burn'em all together."

_Or die trying._ Jesse swallowed hard, giving Ben's shoulders a squeeze. Claire was right in one way at least. They may not be safer together, but they were stronger. And as long as Jesse didn't go demon-side, they had an advantage. "Right now, their plans are stuck. So we just got to strike first."

"And how would we do that, exactly?" Ben asked, rubbing his face tiredly with his hands. "We have no idea where they are now, assuming Kadiel didn't level the place."

"Now that we know what we're looking for-" Claire started, wiggling her boots on before she stood up. "-we take it one step at a time." Like any other hunt, except it wasn't. Claire knew this, but they had to start somewhere. The logic was her comfort blanket.

Jesse stared at her boots, her actions finally hitting home. "Where are you going?"

"To find us a hotel." Her good arm freed her hair from the sling strap; she was still exhausted, she was still feeling the cotton-y softness of Vicodin in her system, but sitting still wasn't an option. Once everything was taken care of here, and Krysta was safe with Lisa, they would need recovery time.

"Can we wait until my mom gets here at least?" Ben pleaded weakly. "I don't-" he sighed, "-I don't wanna leave her, but I don't want you to go without me either. Please."

"Relax," she breathed softly, rounding next to them both. Claire leaned up and kissed Ben's jaw, then gave him a calm, tired smile. "I'm just taking the laptop to the lobby so it doesn't mess with the machines."

Her hand drifted down the line of his back before she stepped to the side and planted a kiss on Jesse's temple, then headed for their things on the bench. "Just take some time to breathe. I got this covered."

Letting out a little breath, Jesse nodded before pushing to his feet and grabbing his coffee. It was cool but he needed the caffeine, so he took a large gulp. "Just don't take long. No side-trips to porn sites."

Maybe it was the pain killer, maybe it was the near death experience, but Claire shot him a knowing, apple-cheeked smile from around her arm while she lugged the laptop strap over her good shoulder.

Ben resettled his elbows on his knees, his gaze turning to his sister on the bed. After a moment he stood, re-situated his chair, and took up her hand.

The moment felt infinitely personal and intimate, and Jesse wasn't sure if he should just leave. But Ben had told them to stay. Turning slightly away, he sipped at his coffee.

* * *

><p>Two more Vicodin later Claire could actually lift her arm over her head without thinking she was going to pass out, a luxury she found especially freeing when it was finally her turn to shower. Rock-Paper-Scissors was never one of her favorites, but losing twice in a row at least gave the oxicontin a little more time to work itself into her blood stream.<p>

By the time she stepped out of the warm, jasmine smelling bathroom, Claire's endocrine system was wrapped in a warm blanket of endorphins and affection. She found the boys settled on the bed already, Ben in the middle of the bed, a little toasted from the liquor he'd convinced Jesse to let him have. Things were okay again, but the residual stress from the past four days were finally taking their toll on him, leaving him exhausted him.

Half sitting up on his elbows, Jesse quirked his head to the side. "Feeling alright, darling?" he said with a slight smile, trying not to stare at her long, bare legs too much. Claire shot him a sleepy looking smile, tossing her towel back toward the bathroom before slinking onto the foot of the bed.

"Can't complain," she sighed easily. So much weighed on all their minds, like looming thunder clouds, that Claire received their short sliver of peace brought on by Krysta's rescue, pharmaceuticals, and a hot shower in the same light as an early retirement.

Ben tracked her with his eyes but remained mostly quiet as the two of them talked to each other in soft tones. While Claire had been showering, he and Jesse had simply lied there. He'd started off on his side, but then Jesse had spooned up behind him just like he himself had when Jesse had returned to them from their separation in Erie. Only things were a little different this time: Ben had felt Jesse's arms circle around him and pull them closer, then felt the ghost of his lips along the curved back of his neck. With Claire's reappearance from the bathroom, still glistening from the shower and looking so relaxed and happy, the only thing keeping her decent an all-too-thin ribbed tank and shorts that curved up with the shape of her creamy legs, it took all Ben's effort not to visibly adjust the ache in his groin. They were all tired,

Jesse didn't exactly have sleep on his mind. Coming up from around Ben, Jesse's hand settled on the other man's arm, drawing little circles with his thumb. It was important, for some reason, to do that, feel skin on skin. There was a comfort in it.

It was also the same reason his nerves were thrumming. Ben was drunk. Claire was drugged. It was far from the right time for so many reasons, but this time around Jesse couldn't get himself to care. His eyes moved from Claire to Ben before he leaned over, pressing a light kiss just under Ben's earlobe.

Ben swallowed, eyes fluttering briefly and his lips parting to breathe. He sucked it in sharply and held it, feeling goosebumps rise all over his skin in a delayed reaction. His mind was still running fast, even with the sluggish effects of the alcohol, but just those little touches were enough to properly disarm him. He forced himself to keep breathing and let everything go; to just _be_ for a few hours.

Warmth bloomed in the center of Claire's chest as she watched them, with an actual _heat_ centered a bit lower. She smiled, subversively rakish. Thanks to their unique and unshakable connections, everything they'd been through together-not to mention the healthy dose of endorphins, natural and otherwise-Claire ignored every looming shadow that darkened their days to come for this moment of peace and longing. Her head tipped at a deep angle toward her shoulder, spilling damp spirals across the ridge of her collarbone.

"Should I go dry my hair or somethin'?" she lightly teased, in spite of the fact that her fingertips painted delicate, affectionate lines along both Jesse and Ben's legs.

"Nodontgo," Ben exhaled, looking up at her with need in his eyes. Even as he found himself rolling his hips backward into Jesse, he reached out for Claire.

Hissing in a breath, Jesse paused long enough to look at Claire. "Stay," he said, before turning his attention back to Ben. He trailed exploring kisses along his neck, each growing bolder, wetter, and more heated.

Ben's reach and Jesse's heated look was all it took, though admittedly Claire wasn't planning on leaving. The heat in their eyes drew her in like gravity, and she rolled onto her side in front of Ben, her lips slowly closed on his with need and breath. Ben brought a hand up into her damp hair and deepened the kiss without hesitation. His other hand found Jesse's where it still rested on his forearm, pulling it across his body before settling it on Claire's hip, his fingers lacing through Jesse's and forcing him to tighten his hold.

The coaxing wasn't necessary. Jesse kneaded her hip, his mouth relishing in Ben's taste, the scent of jasmine everywhere. With a light nip, he pulled back from Ben's neck, his eyes focusing on the two of them. His hand, still threaded in Ben's, slid to Claire's ass to pull her flush against the other man. He twined his leg over theirs, giving a moan as his groin pressed even harder against Ben.

Never in his life had Ben felt safer and more whole than he had in that moment. Fire raced through his blood as the sensations assaulted him, and his answering moan got lost in Claire's kiss. After a long indulgence he finally pulled back but stayed close, his hand drifting away from Jesse's to push up beneath the front of her thin tank top and travel up to her breast.

Claire closed her eyes and pulled in a breath through her lips, her brow leaned against Ben's, shifting through the mix of her hair and his. Ben's hand had a work-rough texture that scraped across her water-warmed skin like wood on tissue paper, and pulled at the tight sensation well below her naval. The soft sound somewhere on the back of his voice, combined with the grip under her ass lulled her right over that edge _they all_ had been toeing. Claire's eyes shifted focused just past Ben's shoulder, meeting Jesse's as she rolled her hips forward, pushing into the slow writhe and pulling another choked noise out of Ben.

Biting his lip, Jesse's eyes traveled down the length of her, pausing where he could see the bulge of Ben's hand, frustratingly hidden beneath her tank top. His hand coming up slightly, he hooked his thumb in her boxers and tugged down. Pinned between Ben and the bed, they didn't go far, but enough to give a great view of her round ass. He appreciatively cupped a smooth, hot cheek, giving a squeeze.

Ben had half a mind to try and give some form of direction to what he knew was happening, but even in the fog of inebriation, he knew that it might potentially kill the buzz. Instead he followed Jesse's lead, his hand drifting back out from beneath Claire's shirt to find the hemline and peel it up her bare back.

Later, as the last shivers of pleasure dissipated Ben fell back, every part of him drained of energy. He couldn't recall a time in his entire life where he felt so... complete. Like he was exactly where he was supposed to be, with the people he was meant to be with. He leaned his head against Jesse's shoulder, his heart still galloping and panting for breath. Claire eased away from him and listed heavily against him, using his inner thigh as a pillow and smiling up at both of them with friction-swollen lips.

Sagging down even further under Ben's weight, Jesse pressed a contented kiss against his temple, his arms wrapping him up tight. "_Now_ we gotta sleep," he said, smiling through half-closed eyes. "Though it was worth it."

Ben reached for Claire's arm and traveled down the length of it until he found her hand, lacing their fingers together. "C'm up here, between us."

Sounded perfect to her. Now if only her legs would move; they felt boned by jello, and for a few moments, her eyes closed though her fingers playing with Ben's in her hand, Claire thought she was going to fall asleep. A little pull of insistence gave her enough energy to slink up the bed and settle between them. Ben made room for her, turning on his side so he was facing both her and Jesse, then draping an arm over her to settle on the other man's hip.

Resting his arm on Ben's, Jesse burrowed in against Claire. He nosed against her neck, breathing the jasmine in deep and smiling. He wasn't alone. He wasn't drifting, and he wasn't afraid. The demon's words were empty; Jesse _knew_ Ben and Claire, and they weren't leaving. He also knew he'd keep them safe, come Heaven or Hell. In no time at all, they were all drifting asleep.

* * *

><p>The sun was peeking through the cheap window treatments, but eventually it found Jesse with all the insistence of a nagging old woman. He squinched his eyes, trying to turn away but a hand clamped down on his elbow, holding him in place.<p>

"What the...?" he tried to turn the other way, but another hand pinned him in place. With a slight laugh, he smiled as he opened his eyes. "Alright, what are you two-"

But when he finally saw Ben and Claire leaning over him, they weren't smiling. Their faces were drawn and serious, their eyes shining with an inhuman gleam. A wind roared up through the room, the window curtains blown aside and the sun streaming in, revealing the spread shadows of wings arching from Ben and Claire's backs.

"No. No, Ben, Claire, please," he begged, looking between them.

Their expressions impassive, Claire looked over at Ben, who lifted a short, silver sword in his free hand. Jesse bucked in desperation but their grips were like iron. He couldn't move, couldn't escape. He could only watch as Ben tilted his head and then brought the sword down, right through Jesse's heart.

Jesse's body spasmed and his eyes snapped open. It was dark. Oh God, it was dark. He sat up sharply.

'Ow! God_dammit_-!" Ben bleated, his hand coming up over the right side of his face. Jesse had hit him - hard - in the process of jolting awake. "The hell was that for!" Claire half-rolled back, peering up at Jesse with the same confusion.

His body shaking, Jesse looked down at them, then up at the room. The dark, angel-free room. "It wasn't real," he breathed, not sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Claire's nose wrinkled when she tried to shift up to her hip. The Vicodin had worn off, and now that she was awake, she was fully aware of the twisted, recovering muscles in her shoulder.

"S'just a dream, Jess," she hissed a little as sleep faded, leaving a dull roar in her arm. She scooted out from the covers and headed for their bags in the dark. Ben reached for Jesse's arm before his hand traveled to his shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

"You okay?"

Jesse jumped at the touch but mentally shrugged it off. "Yeah, yeah. She's right, it was a dream." He licked his lips, watching Claire. "Though I don't think they're exactly normal. The demon who- The demon who had Krysta, I think he's sending them to me."

Claire looked over her bare shoulder, hearing that. Her stomach flipped, and it wasn't from the flat Mountain Dew she swallowed the painkiller with. Before she said anything, she met Ben's eyes, her face questioning. Ben's jaw worked silently and he swallowed, then shook his head slightly.

"How do you know?"

"He told me. I mean, good as," Jesse said, looking between them, trying to read their expressions. "The other dream I had, it was..." He bit his lip. "Look, there's a lot to say. You should probably get some sleep. We can figure it out in the morning."

"Well after a slap like that, I don't think I can go back to sleep," Ben muttered, trying to inject humor into the situation, though it was obvious from the look in his eyes what he was still thinking about. Claire silently agreed, but made her way back to the bed.

"It looks like it's gonna be a while before _any_ of us go back to sleep, so you may as well get it off your chest." Her voice was tired, but more comforting to overlie her budding concern.

Shifting back to lean against the headboard, Jesse thought a moment before starting. "That first dream I had, with the army. When I talked to the demon, he said that's what...my future was, the reason they made me. I even recognized his voice from the dream. He's trying to get into my head, make me do what they want."

"Nothing a little blackout drinking won't fix," Ben offered, sliding off the bed and going over to his bag. The bruises and cuts on his bare body were made even more obvious by the lamp light, but he seemed mostly unaware of them. He did, however, walk with a bit of a limp; though whether it was from the injuries in Maine or from their romp was uncertain.

Claire watched him go, clearly not as confident in that solution. She turned her eyes up to Jesse, facing him and settling a little against his lap. "Try to think of them as movies," she offered, thumb traced small circles on his outer thigh. "He can't change reality."

Jesse took a deep breath, closing his eyes and concentrating on her touch. There was still a nagging worry at the back of his mind, though, one the demon had probably intended to put there. "I won't go demon if you don't go angel," he said lightly, though inside he held his breath.

Claire rolled her lips, an outward sign of the way she felt her chest constrict. She couldn't help how her eyes fell away from his just for a moment as she composed her thoughts. They snapped back up with a faint, ghost of a smile. "I don't think you have to worry about that."

Her words were honest, though weighted with an odd sadness that Claire kept to herself. Ben didn't look at either of them as he pulled a shirt on over his head and, once he found a pair of boxers, tugged them on over his hips as well. When he turned back at them, his expression was even but firm.

"Aside from Kadiel? Angels can eat me."

Jesse's smile for Ben was real, though he felt a twist of concern looking at Claire. "What do you mean you don't think it'll be something to worry about? You're allowed to say no, right?"

She saw the concern in his eyes, and smiled warmly in response, though the heaviness didn't leave her eyes. "Course I am. But you shouldn't worry because Kadiel won't ask."

Pursing his lips, Jesse slid an arm around her, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. He tried to think of something to say to make it better, but there wasn't anything. Well, aside from pointing out that at least her dad wasn't a child-snatching demon, but that was a little more than he felt like sharing.

"Got some glasses, Ben?"

Having gone back to scrounging through his bag, Ben turned to look at Jesse with a confused expression. "Huh?"

Jesse raised an eyebrow at him. "Thought you said something about drinking."

Ben pulled a face, feeling foolish. "Right. Just- just a sec." He headed toward their little kitchenette, opening two cabinets before coming back with three mugs, their handles looped around his fingers. "Here."

Taking the cups with both hands, Jesse handed a rum back to Ben and a whiskey to Claire before taking a deep swig of his own Jack and coke. It was gone in a second gulp, though not for long, the cup refilling. "Longest fucking night, right?"

Claire looked down into the whiskey, smirking lightly at Jesse's words. She was quiet, though, and took only half a sip from her mug before setting it on the night stand. Ben, in contrast, drank half his mug in one gulp, then resettled on the end of the bed. He frowned downward.

"So what should we do now?"

Jesse shrugged. "Drink. Sleep." _Or for those of us with a demon sitting in our head, repeat step 1._ "Leave in the morning."


	18. Extended Scene: Come Together

Two more Vicodin later Claire could actually lift her arm over her head without thinking she was going to pass out, a luxury she found especially freeing when it was finally her turn to shower. Rock-Paper-Scissors was never one of her favorites, but losing twice in a row at least gave the oxicontin a little more time to work itself into her blood stream.

By the time she stepped out of the warm, jasmine smelling bathroom, Claire's endocrine system was wrapped in a warm blanket of endorphins and affection. She found the boys settled on the bed already, Ben in the middle of the bed, a little toasted from the liquor he'd convinced Jesse to let him have. Things were okay again, but the residual stress from the past four days were finally taking their toll on him, leaving him exhausted him.

Half sitting up on his elbows, Jesse quirked his head to the side. "Feeling alright, darling?" he said with a slight smile, trying not to stare at her long, bare legs too much. Claire shot him a sleepy looking smile, tossing her towel back toward the bathroom before slinking onto the foot of the bed.

"Can't complain," she sighed easily. So much weighed on all their minds, like looming thunder clouds, that Claire received their short sliver of peace brought on by Krysta's rescue, pharmaceuticals, and a hot shower in the same light as an early retirement.

Ben tracked her with his eyes but remained mostly quiet as the two of them talked to each other in soft tones. While Claire had been showering, he and Jesse had simply lied there. He'd started off on his side, but then Jesse had spooned up behind him just like he himself had when Jesse had returned to them from their separation in Erie. Only things were a little different this time: Ben had felt Jesse's arms circle around him and pull them closer, then felt the ghost of his lips along the curved back of his neck. With Claire's reappearance from the bathroom, still glistening from the shower and looking so relaxed and happy, the only thing keeping her decent an all-too-thin ribbed tank and shorts that curved up with the shape of her creamy legs, it took all Ben's effort not to visibly adjust the ache in his groin. They were all tired, but perhaps assuming they would want to sleep was wrong.

Jesse didn't exactly have sleep on his mind. Coming up from around Ben, Jesse's hand settled on the other man's arm, drawing little circles with his thumb. It was important, for some reason, to do that, feel skin on skin. There was a comfort in it.

It was also the same reason his nerves were thrumming. Ben was drunk. Claire was drugged. It was far from the right time for so many reasons, but this time around Jesse couldn't get himself to care. His eyes moved from Claire to Ben before he leaned over, pressing a light kiss just under Ben's earlobe.

Ben swallowed, eyes fluttering briefly and his lips parting to breathe. He sucked it in sharply and held it, feeling goosebumps rise all over his skin in a delayed reaction. His mind was still running fast, even with the sluggish effects of the alcohol, but just those little touches were enough to properly disarm him. He forced himself to keep breathing and let everything go; to just _be_ for a few hours.

Warmth bloomed in the center of Claire's chest as she watched them, with an actual _heat_ centered a bit lower. She smiled, subversively rakish. Thanks to their unique and unshakable connections, everything they'd been through together-not to mention the healthy dose of endorphins, natural and otherwise-Claire ignored every looming shadow that darkened their days to come for this moment of peace and longing. Her head tipped at a deep angle toward her shoulder, spilling damp spirals across the ridge of her collarbone.

"Should I go dry my hair or somethin'?" she lightly teased, in spite of the fact that her fingertips painted delicate, affectionate lines along both Jesse and Ben's legs.

"Nodontgo," Ben exhaled, looking up at her with need in his eyes. Even as he found himself rolling his hips backward into Jesse, he reached out for Claire.

Hissing in a breath, Jesse paused long enough to look at Claire. "Stay," he said, before turning his attention back to Ben. He trailed exploring kisses along his neck, each growing bolder, wetter, and more heated.

Ben's reach and Jesse's heated look was all it took, though admittedly Claire wasn't planning on leaving. The heat in their eyes drew her in like gravity, and she rolled onto her side in front of Ben, her lips slowly closed on his with need and breath. Ben brought a hand up into her damp hair and deepened the kiss without hesitation. His other hand found Jesse's where it still rested on his forearm, pulling it across his body before settling it on Claire's hip, his fingers lacing through Jesse's and forcing him to tighten his hold.

The coaxing wasn't necessary. Jesse kneaded her hip, his mouth relishing in Ben's taste, the scent of jasmine everywhere. With a light nip, he pulled back from Ben's neck, his eyes focusing on the two of them. His hand, still threaded in Ben's, slid to Claire's ass to pull her flush against the other man. He twined his leg over theirs, giving a moan as his groin pressed even harder against Ben.

Never in his life had Ben felt safer and more whole than he had in that moment. Fire raced through his blood as the sensations assaulted him, and his answering moan got lost in Claire's kiss. After a long indulgence he finally pulled back but stayed close, his hand drifting away from Jesse's to push up beneath the front of her thin tank top and travel up to her breast.

Claire closed her eyes and pulled in a breath through her lips, her brow leaned against Ben's, shifting through the mix of her hair and his. Ben's hand had a work-rough texture that scraped across her water-warmed skin like wood on tissue paper, and pulled at the tight sensation well below her naval. The soft sound somewhere on the back of his voice, combined with the grip under her ass lulled her right over that edge _they all_ had been toeing. Claire's eyes shifted focused just past Ben's shoulder, meeting Jesse's as she rolled her hips forward, pushing into the slow writhe and pulling another choked noise out of Ben.

Biting his lip, Jesse's eyes traveled down the length of her, pausing where he could see the bulge of Ben's hand, frustratingly hidden beneath her tank top. His hand coming up slightly, he hooked his thumb in her boxers and tugged down. Pinned between Ben and the bed, they didn't go far, but enough to give a great view of her round ass. He appreciatively cupped a smooth, hot cheek, giving a squeeze.

Ben had half a mind to try and give some form of direction to what he knew was happening, but even in the fog of inebriation, he knew that it might potentially kill the buzz. Instead he followed Jesse's lead, his hand drifting back out from beneath Claire's shirt to find the hemline and peel it up her bare back.

Already, her heart was beating easier, _faster_ with the heat that flushed through her veins, bringing color to her cheeks, her chest, and everywhere she was being touched. She swallowed lightly, abs tensed to shift her weight onto both bare knees, where she ducked out of her shirt, pulled one handed over her head and shoulders. She was swallowed by the clinging spirals of wet hair, the tissue-thin shorts askew on her hips. Claire dropped her chin toward her chest, freckled shoulders shifting slow as her fingertips followed the line of her hips to slide the hem down to her knees. Her eyes peered up through her lashes at both of them.

Ben used their separation to his advantage and quickly rid himself of his own shirt, which he tossed off the end of the bed. Claire's little striptease was enough to make his mouth go dry and he shifted his hips again, trying to contain himself. Even bruised as badly as she was, Ben still found her breathtaking.

"C'mere 'n lie back," he said in a lust-rough voice. Being stuck between her and Jesse felt fantastic, but he had a pretty good idea by then that Jesse wanted to partake also. It wouldn't be fair to keep Claire all to himself.

As she settled, Jesse crawled over the both of them, eager to get his share. One hand slid along her thigh while the other cupped her breast, his thumb running over her nipple. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," he breathed. Ben wasted no time bowing his head down to kiss her shoulder, his lips trailing along her clavicle as his hand smoothed over the long plains of her torso. Beneath his hand, her muscles tightened with the breath she held at the onslaught of sensations.

Claire watched Jesse's eyes with a heated fascination, her hand traipsed along the side of his jaw and back through his hair. She gripped it lightly, reflexively, when Ben's fingertips brushed lower than the blade of her hip. All her possible words were completely lost in the moment-with the solid length of Jesse's thigh under her own when it slid toward his hip, and the sharp, undeniable desire that flared hot with every quick connection of Ben's eyes and touch. Ben's mouth finally latched onto her nipple, his lips and teeth teasing the peak into hardness as his nails raked over the thin skin, determined to get a verbal reaction out of her.

It worked. Claire's eyes closed and her throat tensed in a breath-heavy moan. She arched toward Ben's mouth and dug her nails a little more into the back of Jesse's shoulder.

With a hiss, Jesse brought his lips crashing onto hers, his tongue thrusting deep in her already open mouth. His hand slid higher up her inner thigh, knuckles brushing against hair. The touch was tentative, testing and gentle and in complete contrast to the utter conquest of his mouth. Ben shifted to compensate, his hand drifting down her inner thigh before moving up, coaxing her legs open, his touch very deliberate. When she finally did move it he pulled her leg between his, rutting into her hip.

Jesse's kiss swallowed her higher pitched sound of surprise as she felt Ben's finger plunge into her. Claire took a sudden harsh breath against Jesse's lips before she found herself pressing back in for a deeper kiss. Her tongue found the same strong, grinding rhythm against his, then she scraped his bottom lip with her teeth as her hips arched beneath Ben's skillful touch.

His hand meeting Ben's, Jesse pulled back enough to look down and his throat went dry. From Ben's mouth on Claire's breast, to their long bare torsos, to the familiar rhythm of Ben's hand mirrored by the rocking of his groin, it all left him dizzy and breathless. His own hand going to work deftly at Claire's clit, he nipped her earlobe before saying, "How does it feel, Claire? Do you like how it feels, Ben fingering you?"

Claire could feel her heart push itself into her throat, fluttering wild as the hot sensations pulsed in her blood. Jesse's voice had barely echoed as breath in her hair before she groaned in a heated, surrendering response: "_God, yes-_"

Ben's moan joined hers as he finally pulled back, gasping against Claire's breast, his whole body aching with need. On each inward thrust he twisted hard and up.

"Fuck, she's so tight," he rasped. "And _warm_." The thrusts against her hip were hardly enough to take the edge off. He wanted _more._

A throb running through him, Jesse ground against Claire, his mouth trailing heated kisses along her jaw. "You should see him, Claire, how badly he wants you," he growled. "You want more of him? Do you want to see how wide he can stretch you with his hard cock?"

She gasped and writhed beneath them. Claire's thighs flexed beneath Jesse and between Ben's legs, struggling to push her hips forward to meet their combined touches when Jesse's words pulled from her a shaky breath laced with her voice in a desperate _yes_. Her lust-heated look down at Ben added another surge of fire in her belly; her grip on Jesse's arm tightened and her thighs parted a bit more when Ben actually met her eyes.

For a moment, Ben thought his heart actually stopped. Then his mind rebooted and he moved, his fingers sliding out of her as he untangled himself long enough to yank his sweatpants down past his legs. Once he was finally free of them he pushed up on his knees, carefully adjusting Claire's leg so he was settled between hers once Jesse shifted out of the way. In that split second of awareness Ben's eyes moved up to his friend hungrily.

A sudden idea struck him and his lips curved in a roguish smile. Without any explanation, he reached for Jesse's hand before circling it very deliberately around his cock. Fire flooded his senses. "Guide me in."

"Fuck," Jesse groaned, instinctively giving Ben's cock a pump. Ben's shoulders shook and his breath shuddered out of him in response. Grinning, Jesse ran a thumb across Ben's tip, slowly leading forward. For one long moment his hand was there at the hot, wet edge of both of them. Then he let Ben take over, and the younger man moaned low in his throat as he finally slipped inside.

Ben had spent weeks fantasizing about this very moment, but nothing could hold a candle to the real thing. His hands slid to Claire's hips, pulling her down the length of the bed a little before one broad palm slid up against the small of her back to lift her into his first deep thrust.

Claire felt everything seize for a split second, when heat combined with friction and pressure, and twisted a hard, uneven gasp through her throat. Her heels dug into the bed, one behind Ben's leg, the other brushing Jesse's. Arching up with the guide of Ben's hand at her back, she moaned and her head tipped back into the sheets and the skewed halo of pale hair.

Jesse didn't have enough eyes. He slid back, trying to take in every inch of them. The curling of Claire's toes, the muscles tensing in Ben's ass and legs, the rhythm of their bodies, their faces twisting in pleasure. Shifting his pants down past his ass, he took himself roughly in hand.

It took effort to keep from giving into instinct and bowing over Claire, to pound into her until they both fell to pieces, but he wanted it to last. He moved slow but steadily, one hand sliding up so he could circle his thumb against her clit. The movement off to his left was enough to pull his eyes away, and the sight was enough to rocket Ben's pace up a fraction.

"Knew you liked to watch," he teased, chuckling.

"Knew you liked being watched," Jesse countered, running his hand along Ben's back and down to his ass. Ben inhaled sharply at that, all but shivering as goosebumps chased after Jesse's fleeting touch.

"Don't keep to yourself," Ben breathed, his hands switching placement on Claire's body as he moved one to the back of Jesse's neck, pulling him closer so he could claim the other man's mouth in a possessive kiss.

Giving a shocked whimper at the jolt that ran through him, Jesse's mouth eagerly drove against Ben's. In the back of his head he noticed little differences, but now wasn't the time for exploring. Pumping himself faster, his other hand tangled in Ben's hair, his tongue thrusting in to his rhythm.

That's when Claire's hand released its grip on the sheet, and glided up along Jesse's thigh, insistent in her reach. Her fingertips curled around him and tightened, moving in time with Ben's barely-restrained thrusts. With a moan, Jesse withdrew his hand, trailing it up Claire's arm before palming her breast. Then he pulled back from the kiss, his forehead resting on Ben's jaw as he looked down at Claire.

"You're fucking gorgeous," he breathed, his voice rough.

"You both are," Ben said against Jesse's temple, his hand drifting down his neck and over his back, finally settling on his hip. "_God,_ feels so good."

Watching them from her lower vantage point swelled Claire's chest with more than the sharp heat of lust. Her breaths cut deep, barely controlled through parted, kiss-swollen lips that twisted upward with the idea that blossomed in her mind. A fraction of her bottom lip was caught in her teeth with the grin. Still working Jesse with one hand, the other beckoned Ben close with the wiggle of one finger, so she could whisper in his ear. Ben pressed a kiss to Jesse's temple before doing as she wordlessly asked, bowing over her and sliding up against her, chest to chest. The movement forced him deeper and for a moment he couldn't think, impulsively grinding into her. Claire's breath hitched against his ear.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he murmured against her cheek.

"_Jesse behind me... so I can put my lips on you,_" she breathed just beneath his earlobe, a touch of pleading hunger in her tone. Ben nodded and sought out her mouth briefly in an intense kiss. The idea of her mouth on his cock, tasting herself on him, pulled a low, needy noise out of him.

"She wants a turn with you," he said over his shoulder, untangling from Claire and rolling off to the side.

Biting his lip, Jesse cupped Claire's face, his thumb running over her bottom lip. "That right, baby? You want me inside you?" Her heated smile and nod was only half her reply, preceding her lips closing around the tip of his finger, then the light scrape of teeth before she let go.

Claire slid her palm down Jesse's thigh and pushed against the bed to sit and turn, putting her knees beneath her. The little brushes of exposed skin between her back and Jesse's chest made her heart jump, and her breath with it. She met Ben's eyes; her own half-lidded and hungry, as she flushed back against Jesse, her hands trailing his sides behind her.

The image wasn't too unlike Jesse and the girl from Madison, and Ben bit his lip to keep from groaning as he took in the visual feast. It was incredibly erotic; all Ben wanted to do was press against them both and ride it out. Instead he pushed himself up against the headboard, slipping a pillow to wedge between it and his back as he impulsively circled his cock around the base.

"C'mon, Jess," Ben said, his voice thick but with just a hint of amusement. "Don't keep her waiting."

"Now who's the one who wants to watch," Jesse said, quirking a smile at him even as he grabbed Claire's hips. Another time he would go slow and tease them until they begged, but to do so now would just be cruel to himself. He slid in with one smooth thrust, his mouth falling open in a silent gasp. It had been far, far too long, and Claire was absolutely perfect.

Claire sucked in a breath, her lips twitched apart. Her mind subconsciously picked up on the subtle differences, but it all added to the tempest of lust and deep affection that connected her to both of them. The valley of her spine bowed and flexed against Jesse's chest as her nails bit into his hips, then gently dropped forward; Claire supported herself with an elbow on the inside of Ben's thigh, and tossed her hair away from her face. She felt one of Ben's hands slide up into her hair and cradle her cheek.

He wanted so badly to say something, the words were buzzing in his head like a swarm, but he held them back. He didn't want to put Jesse off, getting sappy. They both looked incredibly hot though, there was no denying it.

Unlike Ben, Jesse wasn't about to take his time with things. Already building his rhythm, his eyes followed Claire all the way down, twitching between her and Ben's cock. He gave her ass a quick pinch. "C'mon, Claire. Use that dirty little mouth."

The hot irony of his words not only erupted as a deep rouge that spread across her cheeks and nose, but also made her bite down on her own lip, purring a moan in the back of her throat. Claire's hips pushed back against Jesse as her cheek brushed Ben's tip, teasing it with her breath before her lips closed around him.

Ben's head tipped back and his jaw went slack as the sensation hit him in a rush. He fought to keep still, dangerously close to the edge just on the visual stimulation alone. When he finally got his urges under control again he looked down at her, watching intently and chewing viciously on his lower lip.

"_Yeah,_" he encouraged breathlessly, his hips lifting on the next bob downward and his free hand twisting up in the bedsheets.

"Just like that," Jesse echoed, his hips snapping harder as he watched Ben. Then one hand released its bruising grip on Claire's hip, sliding around to finger her clit. Her squealed reply dissolved around Ben's cock.

Assaulted by sensation, instinct deepened the bend in her spine and turned her hips up toward Jesse's thrusts. Her grip on Ben's hip flexed and held tight; the flat of her tongue dragged under his tip, ticked by the rhythm that jarred her from behind.

Ben's eyes traveled up Claire's back and further, finally settling on Jesse's. He felt the fire reflected in the other man's face as if it was his own, twisting up and burning in him with the sound of Claire's pleasure.

"Harder," he growled out. "Make her come, Jess."

The words had Jesse toeing the edge, but he wasn't going to let that happen until he'd gotten Claire off. Bending over Claire, his free hand propping him up, he nipped at her ear as he rubbed her harder.

"You hear that, Claire?" he grunted between thrusts. "Are you going to come for me? Going to scream nice and loud for Ben?"

Claire had been back and forth from spilling over several times since they first hovered over her on the bed, but their gravelled words pushed her closer than ever. Her thighs shook and twitched under the strain where the pressure building from the base of her spine burned. With a high pitched gasp, she pulled herself from Ben but still met his eyes, she tipped her head back against Jesse's shoulder after another hard toss of her hair.

Ben's hand once again returned to his cock, pumping furiously as he inched himself closer, one hand coming to rest on the back of Claire's neck.

"You are so beautiful, Claire," Ben murmured. "God, I wish you could see yourself right now. Like a fucking _goddess._ We love you so much, d'you know that? So fucking much. Tell me how good it feels, I wanna hear it, I wanna hear you tell me."

Nothing beyond them existed in that moment; nothing surpassed the flood of heat that spread from Jesse's fingers and the drag of his cock, and the warmth of Ben's hand in her hair, and the transcendent look in his eyes. She locked on them for as long as she could stand keeping her eyes open; her lips falling further and further apart as more voice cried out on her every breath.

"Oh _God oh God_-" she whined, arching back against Jesse, gasping between words. "_Fuck_, so-good... Don'tstop_don'tstop_!"

Jesse couldn't even if he wanted to. Gritting his teeth to keep control, he slammed into her, nearly withdrawing with every thrust, his hand working at her until he felt her pulse, hot and glorious, around his cock. With a gasped cry, he withdrew, shooting down her back.

Ben's eyes moved rapidly between the two of them, watching them fall over the edge, and forcefully removed his hand, his toes curling as his body screamed in protest. They looked glorious, blissed out, their eyes both clenched closed. He inhaled hard and held it, shuddering and unable to tear his eyes away.

The hardest of the waves passed, giving way to her hard breaths studded with aftershocks of pleasure; Claire sagged heavily against Ben's thigh for a few white-static moments before she was finally able to open her eyes. Beneath the rush of endorphins, her shoulder was screaming, but she only registered it enough to list toward her stronger side, rolling next to him on the bed.

His limbs wobbly, Jesse almost followed suit until his eyes fell on Ben's cock, looking painfully hard. Shifting his pants back up his hips, Jesse crawled over and leaned bonelessly against Ben's shoulder, looking at him through half-closed eyes as his hand trailed down his torso.

"Need some help there?" he said, a smile in his voice. Ben shivered visibly, the ache in his groin doubling to the point where it visibly twitched.

"Maybe," Ben breathed out, his arm looping around behind him to circle around Jesse's hip. Claire leaned up against Ben's other side, her hand drifting up while Jesse's slithered lower. She caught those too-intense blue eyes with her own, still laced with a glowing heat-she smiled at him, knowingly, then turned the look up to Ben. Her fingertips traipsed along the scruff of his jaw, turning his head a bit more toward her.

"I wanna hear him, Jess," she addressed him, even while her whisper brushed against Ben's lips, which she teased with her own. Ben moved his free hand up into her hair and angled her mouth to kiss her, slow but searing. Licking his lips as he watched, Jesse's hand circled Ben at the base. His grip was hard but his pace was agonizingly slow as he ran Ben's length, scraping his teeth lightly along Ben's collarbone.

Ben's hand on Jesse's hip tightened and he groaned against Claire's mouth. Pressing his heels into the mattress, he rolled his hips up into the movement. The pressure from the last build-up was still there, making his whole body throb, and Ben found himself torn between begging Jesse to go faster or begging him to slow down even further.

The barely restrained noise he made and the way he moved against them sent shivers down Claire's spine. She could feel and watch this forever.

"That's it, baby," she moaned encouragement breathlessly against his lips. Her fingertips slowly drifted through his hair, gently gripping, keeping him _there_. Ben groaned in reply, the sound high and almost helpless, his head tipping back into Claire's hand.

"Jess-" he gasped, his grip flexing and releasing again as he pushed up harder. "Fuck, I- _please_."

The surge of power Jesse felt behind those words was intoxicating. He gave a squeeze, pulling a whine out of Ben, but kept the pace relentlessly slow. "Please what, Ben?" he said innocently, his tongue dipping in the hollow of his neck.

Ben rocked up even harder, desperation evident in every noise he made, his hand pulling free from Claire's hair at the risk of forcing her to follow through with the action she hadn't quite finished. He didn't blame her, and she had done fantastically for the little he'd managed to get, but she and Jesse both managed to reach their pinnacle _together_ while he'd barely gotten a proper dip.

"Mark me up," he begged, hardly caring who went through with the action - him, or Claire. "Suck me off, I _need_ it, I- _please_, please, _please-_"

A flutter went through Jesse's stomach and he bit his bottom lip, his hand pausing at Ben's tip. He looked over at Claire, uncertainty written on his face. He'd never given head to a man before, he'd never wanted to. Except the idea of doing that for Ben had his pulse racing. He just didn't want to try and be bad at it.

Jesse's look registered in the back of Claire's mind, though she didn't know the exact meaning behind it. It didn't matter anyway; she smiled hotly at him, and had already started to shift down the length of Ben's body, keeping eye contact with the other man as she trailed kisses and teeth scrapes down his heaving chest. No sooner had she settled again low between his thighs that her lips closed around him, dragging down slow and losing her breath in a muffled groan when she felt his slow buck beneath her.

"_Fuck,_ yeah," Ben groaned, holding out the second syllable as his head tipped back again. His unoccupied hand found purchase in the blankets, twisting them up in a white-knuckled grip. "Like that, just like that, _yeah._"

Watching with interest and a little envy, Jesse turned his attention back to Ben's chest as his hand worked just below Claire's lips. Gently nipping along it, he paused over Ben's right pec, closing his mouth over the skin and sucking hard.

Ben hissed, his body bowing into it and his toes curling. The pressure in his groin spike hard and he forced himself still, trying to hold back without making them stop. After a few moments he turned his head downward, risking a look at what was being done to him. The spike doubled up a second time.

"Shit," he gasped, the hand on Jesse's hip moving up to his shoulder and then into his hair.

Claire braced herself mostly on widely spread knees between Ben's legs and used her free hand to sweep her hair out of her eyes as she worked him with her mouth. Her gaze stayed glued along the length of their bodies, their rhythmic tensing enough to close them for just a moment, thanks to the hard twist of satisfaction in her gut.

Pleasure licked its way up and down his nerve endings, and as it grew more intense Ben's hips arched harder upward until he gasped out: "Waitwaitwait, stop, _stop,_ I- _Claire, wait-_"

The hand in the bedclothes moved up to her hair and twisted in it a little, trying gently to pull her back. She did, gasping a little through reddened lips, and looking a little wild in the eyes. Jesse froze, too, looking up at Ben though he didn't move his hand.

Again, his body ached in desperation, the relief just out of reach, and Ben screwed his eyes shut and held his breath as he fought it back. Every muscle in his body felt tense, but he knew what he wanted. Ben swallowed, his hand going slack in Claire's hair as he reached for her.

"Ride me," he said, his voice rough with want. "Please, I wanna-" but his voice broke, choking off the words. He didn't need to finish his thought, since in that moment Claire would've given him anything, and that particular request did more than just tilt her grin. Without a word, she sat back on her knees and crawled across his lap, thoughtlessly lacing her fingertips with Jesse's in the process. One of his hands curved under her ass as he guided himself in with the other, his eyes very nearly rolling back into his head.

"_Christ,_" he gasped emphatically. She was _so_ wet. Without even waiting for her to settle he brought his knees up behind her, one arm clutching her good shoulder as he started thrusting rapidly up into her.

Shifting to his knees beside them, Jesse pressed his groin against the friction of Ben's thigh, already half hard. His hand threading into Claire's hair, he pulled her in for a crushing kiss, his tongue thrusting with Ben's rhythm. She gasped and sighed shakily against his mouth, melting more than a little at the sheer savagery in Jesse and Ben's combined actions. Her body stretched lean, jarred in from Ben's snapping hips.

Ben pressed his face into her neck, gasping with every movement, lifting her and thrusting in. The twice-over denial made him frenzied, the craving demanding to be satisfied.

"Love you love you love you," he chanted against her skin, punctuated with every stab. He tilted her into him and rolled up to meet her, and then with a broken noise he was gone, going arrhythmic as it hit him with the full force of a tidal wave.

Pulling back, Jesse watched the spasm of Ben's muscles, the width of his mouth just visible below Claire's chin. He felt a twinge inside, wanting that same closeness with Ben that he had with Claire, that they'd both had with her. Shrugging it away, he nuzzled in Ben's neck, kissing and tasting the salt of his sweat.

Her ruddy breaths mixed with the hard tum of their combined heartbeats, and Claire pushed her hand lovingly through Ben's shower-and-sweat damp hair. Her fingertips bridged down to Jesse's shorter, disheveled hair, gliding down to cup the side of his throat, her thumb brushing back and forth.

The whole experience had been one of the most reverent, most intense and meaningful of her life; on top of the chemicals in her system, her knees felt weak, _her whole body_ felt it. A physical and emotional fever she didn't ever want to end manifested as a subtle, but very real quiver just beneath her skin.

Ben stroked his hands up and down her back, his lips traveling up the long line of her neck before he turned the necessary inches inward to kiss her tenderly. The exhaustion was finally starting to hit him, but he felt the very real press of Jesse's lips on his own throat and a very familiar hardness settled against him. Ben very lightly kissed the tip of Claire's nose and smiled at her as she habitually wiped the tiny bit of moisture with the side of her hand.

"G'head and rest," he murmured, his hands gently lifting her to help her slide off of him. The adrenaline was still pumping in her veins, but no longer had the potent burn of gasoline. It settled more like incense, heavy and lulling behind her eyes as she smiled back at him.

"Who's up for pancakes?" she asked frivolously, with humor, but barely enough energy to push the volume past a whisper. Her eyes weren't even open anymore.

"Jesse's up, but I don't think it's for pancakes," Ben teased gently, turning over to kiss him before he could come up with some wise-ass response, only getting out a breath of a laugh.

Then Jesse was lost in the kiss, exploring Ben's mouth more leisurely. Though there was a pull in his groin, and his pajama pants were quite obviously tented, there wasn't the same kind of desperation as before. Rolling back, he pulled Ben on top of him, his hand threading through the back of his hair.

Ben adjusted his weight so it settled in his knees, sliding one arm around Jesse's shoulders. All their other kisses had been rough and messy, but this one held a depth that made his heart flip over in his chest; only this time, the flip was a good thing. His free hand crept lower, pausing at the hemline of Jesse's shirt to push it upward.

"Hidin' the goods, eh?" Ben murmured against his mouth before resuming the kiss.

The jostling movement on the bed next to her was hard to miss. Even though Claire's eyes had been closed, she could hear very well what was going on. She finally opened her eyes, though they were heavy and quite satisfied, still held a decent amount of heat for what she was seeing. A lot of it was centered in her chest, and her lucid smile reflected that.

Shivering against Ben's touch, Jesse languished in the kiss a bit before pulling back enough to say, "You two horny teenagers wouldn't give me time to undress."

"Don't think I heard you complaining," Ben retorted, this time letting his lips wander downward to nip at Jesse's jaw. His current position left no room for him to undress Jesse properly so Ben rolled off to his left side, keeping one leg tangled up in Jesse's and tugging his shirt up over his head. Once that was done he tossed it at Claire with a playful smile, stroking the flat of his hand down Jesse's chest and further downward.

The shirt lightly slapped across her face, muffling the tired chuckle beneath. She was surrounded by Jesse's scent; the hint of soap and sweat heavy on the warmth that still lingered in the material was better than Oxycontin taken with whisky. She inhaled deeply, but pulled it off her eyes.

Goosebumps running up and down his arms, Jesse smiled at Claire and pushed himself up on his elbows. Then he turned to to Ben, his eyes following his hand, just watching and waiting. Ben's eyes flitted back up to Jesse's briefly as his fingertips grazed the waistband of his pants. His Adam's apple bobbed and nerves skittered beneath his skin.

_Just gotta do what feels good t'me,_ he told himself, hooking his thumb past the elastic and moving his lips back to Jesse's jaw again.

"Up," he instructed quietly, nipping the spot where his neck and jaw met. When Jesse lifted his hips Ben dragged his pajama pants down past his thighs. Ben grazed his tongue along the soft patch of skin, then curled his fingers around the base of Jesse's cock and slowly twisted upward.

Jesse's head fell back with a high gasp, his ass clenching in a spasm but otherwise keeping control. "Now you're just being as cruel as I was," he breathed.

"Oh, do you want more?" Ben murmured in question, his lips traveling down Jesse's neck as his hand maintained its slow pace. "I can give you more." He continued on, memorizing the hard-and-soft muscle and skin beneath his lips and tongue. He smelled _amazing._

Tired as Claire was, and not a little bit deliciously sore, there was still no way she could take her eyes from the two of them for very long, even if it was to rest. Her gaze flitted between the two of them, the way Jesse's muscled torso flexed and arched under Ben's touch, and heat spread as a low bass line throughout her body. She gnawed on her bottom lip and let her own fingers glide down her torso, slow and languid as a stretch.

His hips rocking, trying to up the pace, Jesse watched Ben's progress with an open mouth. Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, he glanced over at Claire and his gaze lingered _Someone else who likes to watch_, he thought, grinning at her. "Thought you were supposed to be resting," he said, breath hitching.

"Was I?" she purred back at him, her voice steeped in the warm molasses of sleepy satisfaction, lust, and the twist of pleasure as her fingertips finally slipped between her thighs. Ben chuckled quietly against Jesse's abdomen before nipping at his hip, then soothing the little spot with a wet kiss.

_Okay..._ Ben told himself, pushing the nerves down as far as they would go. _Make it or break it time, Braeden._ He propped himself up on his unoccupied elbow, wet his lips and slipped the head of Jesse's cock past them.

His eyes on Claire, Jesse had only been aware of Ben's touch. The sensation of his hot mouth sliding down his length hit Jesse like a train, something like a scream catching in his throat as he looked down. If Ben so much as twitched, he was going to come.

"Don't-" Biting back the order, Jesse palmed the back of Ben's head. "Just wait- I gotta-" He sucked in deep breaths, closing his eyes. Ben held still, his eyes falling closed also as he forced himself to breathe normally. The hand holding Jesse steady released, sliding down to the top of his thigh instead. A flicker of smugness and pride passed through Ben, both at the idea that he'd managed to turn Jesse on that much and that he was so close and unable to control himself.

His breaths slowing, Jesse opened his eyes. The sight of Ben's mouth on him made him tighten again but he held control and the need eased. Letting out a final breath in a smile, he leaned back on his hands. "Alright. Show me what you can do with that pretty little mouth."

The smirk was evident in Ben's eyes when he finally looked up at Jesse. His hand kneaded his thigh before sliding up to hold him steady again. Knowing that it was still very probable that Jesse would finish quickly he dipped as low as he could before pulling back to focus on the tip. His lips and tongue traced along the smooth crests and ridges before his hand twisted up to meet his mouth as he bobbed down again.

Claire, in the meantime, found it incredibly difficult to lay still with a visual like that. The residual heat from the last hour or so combined with her wandering fingertips was still a bit much, so she abandoned it for another sensory need-the need to be close to them both. Her form slipped behind Jesse, between his back and the headboard, braced comfortably on both knees tucked close to his hips. She dipped close, pressing her lips to the sensitive skin just below his ear. The tips of her breasts brushed against him with each of her breaths, inciting her to press closer-her line of kisses trailing down his neck along the hairline, heated and slow.

With a groan, Jesse closed his eyes, though it was only briefly. There was too much he wanted to watch. Leaning his weight against Claire, he threaded one hand into her hair, tilting his head so she had better access. The other hand slid to Ben, scratching faint lines at the base of his neck. His feet planted, he started thrusting in earnest with Ben's rhythm. His mind ricocheted between the two sensations of their mouths, each breath coming out as a moan.

"Fuck yeah. You're gorgeous. You're both so fucking gorgeous."

Ben pressed his hips into the mattress in sympathy, the sounds pouring out of Jesse turning him on faster than he thought possible. On the next few thrusts he hollowed his cheeks, tilting his head back slightly so that the head of Jesse's cock pressed against his soft palate. Watching the two of them above him sent little pulls of longing through him and Ben moaned in response, the hand on Jesse's cock pumping faster.

Claire closed her eyes at the little twinge of hairs caught under Jesse's fingernails. Her good arm draped over his shoulder and eagerly pressed him against her, marvelling at the way the muscles moved beneath her palm and scraping nails just a little each time he breathed. The whole of it sent a throb of perfect desire through her body, easily heard in her whisper on the shell of his ear.

"_I can still feel you,_" she paused for her own breath, and dug her fingers in a little more on his next one. "_-on me, inside me..._"

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck," Jesse hissed, unable to hold back anymore. His hand twisting in Ben's hair, his thrusts went frantic and erratic. His back arched, his shoulder blades digging against Claire as he keened, and she bit down on his shoulder. Toes curling, he came.

Ben flinched at the first hot jolt, mostly out of surprise, but he kept moving through it with the own phantom memory of how good it felt being milked dry. It certainly wasn't altogether unpleasant and he slowed down, letting Jesse thrust through it with jerking breaths. Meanwhile his hand drifted away and back to his own cock, finding a merciless pace, focusing each twist on the head so as to finish quickly.

Scraping her teeth a bit on Jesse's skin, Claire's eyes peeked down the length of his body to Ben. She smiled hungrily when she caught his eyes, and the furious movement of his hand. Planting another quick kiss to Jesse's throat, she crawled out from behind him, gesturing with a beckoning hand. "Let me."

Collapsing bonelessly against the headboard, Jesse's eyes opened at those words, following her every move. Ben pulled his mouth away at last, his lips bruised from the force of the action and his eyes a little glazed over. He crawled the necessary inches up the bed before rolling over on his back, shoulder-to-shoulder with Jesse, his smile lazy and wide even as he continued to jerk himself off.

"You gonna fall asleep on me?" he teased breathlessly. Claire's lazy smirk answered him, as well as a light slap to the inside of his forearm as she positioned herself between his knees. Her hair, now dried in naturally pale spirals, tickled the inside of his thighs as her tightened lips pressed down over the tip. The flat of her tongue dragged down with her bob, pressured on the twitch of the vein just below. Ben gasped explosively in response, his hand moving away from his cock so as to slide both hands into her hair. Digging both heels into the mattress, he curved his hips up beneath her as Jesse pressed lazy kisses down his neck.

"Look up at me, baby," he whispered, twisting his fingers into the strands. "Lemme see. I wanna see those pretty eyes of yours." She did, both as a reply to his heated words and the twist of pleasure they caused through her whole wracked body. An exasperated moan vibrated against his cock as she tilted her head gently, swallowing as a reflex around the tip as her nose brushed his abdomen. He moaned in response, giving her a crooked, slack-jawed smile.

"That's my girl."

He felt the tips of her fingers down where he couldn't see, gently cradling the sensitive skin beneath her chin. The touch was enough to send a shiver through his shoulders and cause his head to tip back for a moment.

"Yeah, that's it, just like that, _yeah._"

Claire felt her toes curl at the sound of his voice. She picked up her pace, rolling her lips firmly around him, letting the tip of her tongue flick the underside of his tip on every upward slide. Ben slid one hand out of her hair and down to cup her cheek, his expression twisting up and staying there as another low, helpless noise escaped him. He could feel his climax coiling in his belly in ever-tightening circles and his hips canted in reflection of the pace he wanted, his eyes darting back and forth between hers.

"You liked watching us, didn't you?" he asked in a throaty voice. He barreled on, knowing she couldn't respond and not wanting to give her he option of stopping in order to do so. "Not as much as I liked watching you two. Fuck, Claire, you were both so hot. All I can think about is all the ways I wanna watch you and touch you both." Said images flooded his mind as a heady undercurrent to what Claire was doing to him.

Giving his own groan, Jesse nipped appreciatively at Ben's earlobe before his hands slid around to Ben's chest, slowly exploring every inch of it. Claire's hand rolled up between Ben's thighs and circled him below her lips, keeping in sync with the arch of his hips. With the added sensation of Jesse's hands registered in his mind, Ben found himself shoved precariously close to the edge, losing all words together as he rocked up into the two sources of pleasure. His eyes screwed shut and his mouth fell open as formless sounds escaped him, and with one final cry he came, his back arching from the hip and his hands flying away from Claire in order to grab desperately at the blankets - anything to keep from accidentally hurting her.

It'd been an _incredibly_ long time since she knew that position, but there weren't many differences, far as tell tale signs go. Claire kept herself poised, lathing his cock with her tongue as her hand kept the pace, slowing only as his pulse started to wane. As the last shivers of pleasure dissipated Ben fell back, every part of him drained of energy. He couldn't recall a time in his entire life where he felt so... complete. Like he was exactly where he was supposed to be, with the people he was meant to be with. He leaned his head against Jesse's shoulder, his heart still galloping and panting for breath. Claire eased away from him and listed heavily against him, using his inner thigh as a pillow and smiling up at both of them with friction-swollen lips.

Sagging down even further under Ben's weight, Jesse pressed a contented kiss against his temple, his arms wrapping him up tight. "_Now_ we gotta sleep," he said, smiling through half-closed eyes. "Though it was worth it."

Ben reached for Claire's arm and traveled down the length of it until he found her hand, lacing their fingers together. "C'm up here, between us."

Sounded perfect to her. Now if only her legs would move; they felt boned by jello, and for a few moments, her eyes closed though her fingers playing with Ben's in her hand, Claire thought she was going to fall asleep. A little pull of insistence gave her enough energy to slink up the bed and settle between them. Ben made room for her, turning on his side so he was facing both her and Jesse, then draping an arm over her to settle on the other man's hip.

Resting his arm on Ben's, Jesse burrowed in against Claire. He nosed against her neck, breathing the jasmine in deep and smiling. He wasn't alone. He wasn't drifting, and he wasn't afraid. The demon's words were empty; Jesse _knew_ Ben and Claire, and they weren't leaving. He also knew he'd keep them safe, come Heaven or Hell. In no time at all, they were all drifting asleep.


	19. Episode 11: Chain of Fools

Hunched over the hotel table, Jesse's nose was inches from Claire's laptop screen. Ever since they'd reached Burlington, they'd been focused on R&R: rest and research. Normally Jesse let Ben and Claire take care of the research part, but there wasn't a whole lot he could do in the middle of the night. And sleep, well, he'd gotten maybe ten hours in the last week.

So focused on the screen, he didn't notice when the first rays of dawn started peeking through the curtains, or when there was a shift of bodies on the bed behind him. The hand on his shoulder, though, that he noticed.

He nearly jumped out of his chair. "Fuck, don't do that!"

Claire smirked in clear, but tired amusement. "Fine, I won't touch you," she teased, and started to slink toward her bag.

"I'm fine with touching, only when I'm expecting it," he said, straightening and cracking his back. "Or when I'm naked. Then you're allowed to touch me by surprise."

"Ditto." She snickered over her shoulder-which was feeling _much_ better now. Her hair caught in the ribbed tank top as she pried it over her head, then dropped it in the pile of laundry that needed to be done that day.

"Find anything interesting?" she asked, digging out the new package of disposable razors from the Target bag. Sleep was still burning in her eyes, and a shower sounded good.

Rubbing his face, Jesse shook his head. "I don't know. You guys know this shit better than me. Researching demon zombies is still outta my league."

"They weren't zombies, man," Ben muttered from his side of the bed, his face still pressed partway into a pillow and one leg hanging off the end. "Zombies don't bleed."

"Take a break then," Claire breathed tiredly, turning to face them both and lean on the dresser. "How'bout we go out for breakfast?"

"Sounds good to me." Jesse stretched as he stood, walking over to the bed. "'Course we gotta convince the human mattress to get up." He punctuated the sentence by sitting on Ben's back. All the air in Ben's lungs wumphed out of him and he flailed. Claire chuckled, sipping at a stale Diet Pepsi bottle.

"Get offa me!"

"That's not what you said last night," Jesse teased, his hands going for Ben's sides. Ben immediately yelped, wriggling with full force. Claire snorted playfully and pondered the notion of throwing the melted ice on them, just to even the playing field. Maybe another time.

"Just don't break anything-I'll be out in five."

"Sure thing!" Jesse called, sprawling out to pin Ben. The door clicked shut and Ben huffed, turning his face into the pillow.

"Jerk," he muttered goodnaturedly. The full weight of Jesse pressed against every inch of him was enough to keep him from fully pouting about being pinned, though. In fact, the more he concentrated on it, the more it made him want to squirm. _Five minutes alone with either of them... could be a fun challenge._

Jesse gave his ass a slap and then a squeeze. "You liked my jerk last night," he teased, nipping at his ear. Ben felt heat flood him in spite of the tease.

"That's because you have hands like a girl," Ben quipped, turning his head off to the side and craning to look behind him. A slow smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "She said five minutes, right?"

That got an eyebrow raise. "You're a skank," he said, grinding down. Ben bit his lower lip to keep from making a noise, but low groan escaped him anyway.

"Hey, if you don't want me, I'm sure Claire wouldn't mind the one-on-one time."

"I didn't say it was a bad thing," Jesse said, sliding down slightly as he kissed a line down Ben's neck and then down his spine. "Might be cutting it close with five minutes, though."

"I think I can get you off in five minutes," Ben said confidently against the pillow, his eyes falling closed as the sensation of the faint kisses winded their way through him, pooling pleasure in the pit of his belly.

Stopping just short of Ben's waistline, Jesse's cock gave a throb but he tried not to show it in his face. "What are you waiting for then? You want me to get a stopwatch?"

The words were barely out of Jesse's mouth before Ben had rolled over. With a wriggle his shorts were disposed of, and then he reached for Jesse. Crawling up to meet him, there was nothing gentle or exploring about Jesse's kiss. Instead of getting rid of his own pants, he reached between them and squeezed the base of Ben's cock. Ben jumped, sucking in a harsh breath.

"Jesus," he hissed as he broke the kiss, reaching around the grip to try and return the favor.

Gritting his teeth with a hiss as Ben's hand hit home, Jesse turned it into a grin, vigorously stroking him. "Your nicknames for me are really starting to get weird," he breathed before biting down on Ben's neck, eliciting a high, whimpering noise out of the younger man.

"..._well then._" A still-damp Claire stood at the now open door of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and kneading her shoulder with one hand. One eyebrow arched a little higher than the other, and the subtle smirk on her lips mixed with something complicated in her eyes. "Maybe I should take longer showers."

Ben caught the look even from the distance, and felt a flicker of guilt and shame. It reminded him a little bit too much of how Jesse had looked when he'd found Claire and him sleeping in the same bed.

"Whoever was left was gonna sneak into the shower with you," he said, his breath catching. "Guess we'll just have to adjust the plan a bit."

Jesse looked over at her with a hooded smile, still stroking. "Got him all nice and hard for you, though. Just promise to ride him hard."

Their combined looks and words pulled a short laugh out of her. "S'that right?" Claire breathed, pushing that arched brow up a bit further as her hand dropped from her shoulder. She wouldn't address it directly, but there was a tug of war going on behind her eyes-mostly thanks to the sheer surprise of what she'd walked in on. That, and she _was_ starving.

Ben circled his thumb over the tip of Jesse's cock, then down along the ridge - all the while keeping his eyes on Claire.

"Unless you're not feelin' up to it?"

Panting against Ben's chest, Jesse thrust his hips faintly into his hand. "Decide quick, 'cause I can't take his fucking teasing much longer." Claire snorted under her breath, but it came with a bloom of heat behind her eyes. It was obvious what priorities won the tug-of-war.

"I bet you can," she smiled knowingly at Ben with a step toward the bed, leaving her towel behind.

* * *

><p>They were on their third cups of coffee, but still hadn't found much information on any sort of history of "demon zombies" as Jesse had so dubbed them. Since that was a relative dead end, Ben decided to go off of the one thing they did know:<p>

"How long do you think he's been collecting?" Ben asked, his gaze lifting from the laptop sitting on the table. Claire shook her head lightly, adding another cream to her fresh cup of joe.

"God only knows." Unfortunately it was a turn of phrase that wasn't true. The demon knew-the one who had a particular fondness for Jesse. She looked up at him briefly, then back to her coffee. There were others that knew too-but they were equally as inaccessible. Like the white-eyed demon that'd taken Ben.

"That scarring looked old, and it takes a while to brainwash people to _that_ extreme. I also don't think we saw the whole iceberg." She churned the brew with a spoon and brought it up for a sip.

Jesse's expression sagged. "What are we talking? Months? A year?"

"At least months," Ben said, frowning as he took Claire's words to thought. "But... maybe more like years. Vessels are rare. They follow very direct bloodlines."

"And so they should be after both of you," Jesse said, scowling. "But he said they didn't need Ben any more. That he was ruined or something."

"He can't be possessed anymore," Claire answered quietly, indulging in a particularly long drink of coffee. Her mouth had gone a little dry. A lot of that cellar-room conversation she had missed-either by absence or by pain-but she didn't say the logic that followed the sharp memory of those silent slaves trying to rip her from the both of them. She didn't _need_ to be possessed.

Ben's expression grew tense from the memory, but he pushed it back. "Well unless we have some way of tracing back the lines, this is just another dead end." His brows furrowed. "Kadiel would know, wouldn't he?"

"_She_ is working on it on her end," she added softly, knowing what little comfort that statement may have offered. Her eyes stayed low on the table, but flipped to her phone, sitting next to the empty Sweet'n Low packets, as it started to buzz.

Jesse's heartbeat ratcheted up at the name, but he bit back a response. He couldn't ask them to stay away from the angel when he had saved their lives. But it felt like playing with an open flame.

"Maybe... If I could try to get the demon talking again. Could get him to give away more. That might help."

"What?" Ben blurted. "No. _Hell_ no. Are you crazy?"

Claire plucked up her phone but looked at Jesse, obviously in complete agreement with Ben. "This guy ain't exactly a spring chicken. He's not gonna tell you anything he doesn't want known." Her thumb grazed the silent button on the device in her hand, which she finally glanced at.

A smirk instantly crossed her face. She gave Jesse and Ben a quick excusatory glance before slipping out of the diner's booth. The phone held to her ear over her hair, Claire leaned against the counter close to the bathroom hallway.

"I'll be damned, you're still alive?"

"_Don't sound so smug, little lady. Hey, nod your head, wouldja?_"

Claire snorted faintly, but couldn't help the downward twitch of her brows at Kat Nevin's odd request. Or maybe it wasn't _that_ odd. It had been a while-about three years, if she counted right.

"Nod my head?" Suddenly it clicked. Claire's eyes widened a bit as she looked around the diner, ducking her head a bit to see through the windows.

She spotted the aging huntress just outside, one hip cocked and her lips curved in a wide, wry smile. "_Thought it might be you. Your hair's gotten longer._"

Claire's grin blossomed like a daisy, meeting the older woman's eyes through the shaded glass. "You comin' onto me?" she teased into the phone, and beckoned Kat to come in with a wave of her hand.

The line went dead and Claire watched her drop the phone into her front pocket before disappearing from sight. A moment later, the door alarm beeped quietly as she stepped through it and headed in Claire's direction. Claire met her enthusiastic hug with one of her own, as well as a closed-off hiss through a laugh, wincing back on one side.

"_Watch_ that shoulder..." she chuckled, but squeezed Kat's elbow with her good hand, absolutely beaming.

"Somethin' get the jump on you again, Clairey?" Kat asked, brows arched and smirking as she pulled back.

"Long story," Claire answered naturally, her grin leaning to the side before losing a little of its umph. "Tell ya'bout it later. What brings you to Yuppy-land?"

Kat rolled one shoulder up in a shrug, the luster in her own smile fading some. "What else?" Her eyes scanned the diner, falling on the two young men watching them from the table. Kat's brows arched as she looked to Claire again. "Am I interrupting something?"

Claire sent a reassuring smile and a nod toward Jesse and Ben, her eyes lingering on them both even as she answered Kat. A note of laughter wove into her voice. "The usual." Which, for people like them, was never that usual. No doubt the older huntress had a few curious thoughts in her head-Claire could see them plainly when she met Kat's eyes. She smiled a bit in response; the words _it's complicated_ just didn't need to be said. They were always implied.

"Picked the shaggy one up in Detroit. Blue-eyes is a newbie." Extremely vague explanations would have to do for now. "Good men, both of them. I was starting to think those didn't exist."

"They're usually the ones that get eaten first," Kat said with a world-weary smile. Her brows quirked slightly. "Never thought you the type to be picking up strays, though. I distinctly remember us agreeing that partners were more a pain in the ass than they were worth, and somethin' tells me that shoulder agrees with me." Claire faintly down at the older woman. Kat was at least half a foot shorter than Claire, too, but cut like a tank and just as dangerous.

"Maybe you're right," she agreed, but obviously had a case for the opposite. "But they grew on me. Pulled my butt outta the fire a few times too."

"You know they make creams for that," Kat joked, smirking.

"You would know," Claire shot back, grinning warmly. Kat swatted her on the chest, narrowing her eyes at the younger woman but smiled all the while. Claire exaggerated the cough and the wounded look, but it didn't last long.

"Nice to know you haven't changed a bit." Kat paused a beat, then tilted her head off to the side. "You gonna introduce me to your boyfriends?"

"You're not gonna hit 'em, are you?" Claire smiled, the freckles of her nose twitched once in her signature 'cute rabbit face,' then gestured with her good arm toward the table.

Closing the laptop swiftly, Ben put on a smile, though it was a clear by the look in his eyes that he was a little surprised and confused by the new person. After exchanging a look of uncertainty with Ben, Jesse slid on an easy smile as he got to his feet.

"G'day there," he said, holding out a hand to Kat. "Jesse Turner."

Kat looked sideways at Claire, her smirk sharp enough to cut as she took his hand and squeezed it.

"Katherine Nevins. Nice to meet you, Blue Eyes." The last words were turned partway to Claire, her smirk widening into a fuller smile. The younger woman's lips twitched into the dimple at one cheek, but the expression was fairly unburdened.

"Known Kat for, what... eight years now?" The explanation started toward Ben, but ended in a question toward the shorter blond.

"Give or take a couple months," the older woman said, her thumbs hooking into her belt loops.

"Any friend of Claire's," Jesse said, smile widening. "You wanna join us? There's plenty of room and good food."

"Actually, I can't," Kat replied with an apologetic smile. "Only came in to grab a to-go order and head back to my hotel. I'm in the middle of a case."

Ben perked up a little. "Maybe we can help. Four heads are better than one."

Kat chuckled and shook her head. "Thanks, sweetheart, but I work alone."

"If you're sure," Jesse said with a tilt of the head. "What's the beast, in case we should be on the look out?"

Claire stayed quiet, but deftly raised her eyebrows following Jesse's logic. She knew Kat, which mean she knew better than to assume the wiry force of nature would oblige to anything without enough reason behind it. She _did_ like the idea of seeing her more, though.

Of course, she couldn't help but think it wasn't great news for her healing shoulder.

"It's not a beast, far as I can tell. All the victims suffered from electrocution. Lightning strikes." Kat shifted on her feet, her expression turning solemn. "Except the town's going through a dry spell. There hasn't been any rain in over two weeks."

Jesse's expression tightened. "Shit. That sounds kind of biblical."

Claire watched Kat's expression, automatically matching it with her own. She leaned a little heavier on the side of the booth, folding her arms across her middle. "How many?"

"Six so far. All teenagers." Kat sighed and shook her head, frowning. Ben frowned also, his jaw working silently in thought.

"Any connection so far?"

That caused Kat to smirk a bit again as she looked between the three of them. "Like I said before, Hardy Boys and Girls: I've got it covered. I just stopped by because I saw Claire and couldn't help myself. It's not every day you run into a friend in our line of work just wandering in the road, y'know?" Kat swung an arm around Claire's hip and gave her a little squeeze.

"Alright. But call if you need some extra hands." The idea of a hunter working alone struck Jesse as very odd. It seemed like the kind of thing you'd always want someone at your back.

Kat's smile turned wry. "Oh honey, I've got two very functional hands of my own, thank you. I'm old enough to be your mother." She gave Claire one last squeeze before pulling back. "Nice seeing ya again, Clairey."

Claire resisted the urge to hold onto Kat's belt loop and keep her around a bit longer; a displaced attachment had always been there between the two of them, for several reasons (on _both_ sides) and Claire always had to bite back the subconscious fear that whatever time she ran into the woman would be the last. It was a very real fear-probably why it was a little easier to swallow _before_. When Claire was just like Kat; alone.

So like usual, she smile-smirked at her and lightly swatted Kat on the side of her hip. "Keep your head down."

"And run into something? Fat chance," Kat replied with a snort. She leaned over and kissed the Claire's temple. "Don't do anything I would do."

Then she strutted off in the direction of the front counter. Ben watched her go, then turned to look at Claire, his brows furrowing.

"Claire?"

She was watching Kat collect her to-go order at the counter, then slink out the door. Ben's voice cut through her vague concentration, and she turn to look at him. "What?" One brow lifted as she slid down to the bench seat again. Ben wasted no time reaching across the table to take her hand and squeeze it.

"Who is she?"

Sliding in next to her, Jesse's hand settled on her thigh. Claire shot both of them a tight smile of genuine appreciation, but it melted away for her usual look of calm.

"Someone I trust," she said matter of factly, squeezing Ben's hand and leaning a little more against Jesse's shoulder. "S'a long story. More than one." She bobbed her eyebrows on that last bit.

Ben briefly met Jesse's eyes before looking back to Claire again, his expression still a little lost but moreorless concerned. "You're okay, though?"

Claire didn't answer verbally, just met his eyes with a press-lipped smile and eyebrows that lifted in the middle. Her cheek was pillowed by Jesse's shoulder as she sighed. Jesse leaned his head on hers.

"Y'know, I'm an awfully good stalker. Should there be someone you might want me to keep an eye on," he said, his tone light. Claire giggled tiredly under her breath, then lightly nipped at his arm as a 'thank you-but'.

"She'd probably tear you apart without looking, just so you know."

Ben released her hand to flip the laptop back up again, though it was obvious by the look on his face he was still a little conflicted. There really was still so much they didn't know about each other. He was half-tempted to suggest they work the case around Kat, but he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with the older hunter's wrath if she found out what they were doing.

"I'm very resilient," Jesse pointed out. "Part of what makes me such a good stalker."

"I know you are," Claire agreed, nodding lightly against his shoulder before sitting up, and rubbing the inside of her eye with a fingertip. "-but I'd be more worried about whatever _she's_ stalking. Especially if she's distracted by you." She dropped her hand to the coffee mug and pulled it back up to her lips for a sip.

"But I don't think it'll be a big deal if we-y'know," Claire smiled over at Jesse, then back to Ben. "-_keep our options open_."

Ben looked up, his brows furrowed. "How d'you mean?"

"Six teens struck by lightning in one area, with no storms?" Claire's good shoulder lifted a little in a nonchalant half-shrug as she sipped at her coffee, then rolled her lips. "Kat's not gonna be the only one asking questions."

"Funny, I was just thinking that if we did that, she might scalp us." He offered a wry half-smile. "But I guess you know her better than we do. She seems a bit intimidating." Claire grinned, showing a little teeth.

"She'd take that as a compliment, but in any case-yes. Trust me, she'd do the same if it were just me."

Smiling slightly, Jesse gave her leg a squeeze. "Then she's someone we better look after, right?" A brief hesitation flitted across his expression. "There's no real chance this is some Divine Wrath or something, is there? I mean, lightning bolts."

"I think the only one that uses lightning bolts is Thor," Ben suggested without looking up from the screen. "Hang on, let me google it."

"You forgot Zeus," Claire added, grinning around her mug.

"But it wouldn't be angels or something?" Jesse said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I think angels are a little more direct with their smiting," Ben answered with a slight frown. "At least, that's what the books said."

"And less conspicuous than something that can be seen for miles." Claire set her mug down and slipped her hand over Jesse's on her leg, giving it a squeeze. "Not a very 'showy' race."

Jesse nodded, lips pursed. "Not that old school gods would be much better, right?"

"Most of the European ones are in... well, Europe. So not much of our problem." Ben chewed his thumbnail. "Oh! And Raijin, Raijin also uses lightning. Actually, there's a couple..."

* * *

><p>Being that it was the transition point between first period lunch and class, the halls of Rock Point High School were teeming with teenagers. Some of them were in little clumps hiding out in archways and stairwells, while others moved with more purpose on their way to and from. Occasionally a teenage girl would look in their direction as Claire and Jesse walked down the hall toward the admission desk, either in intrigue or genuine interest. When they got to the door, a young man who'd been watching on the other side of it all but leapt up to his feet to open it, flashing what he must have assumed was a dazzling smile at Claire.<p>

Memories flooded the back of her subconscious with just the _smell_ of the place-pencil lead, coffee, and the odd-but-heady mix of perfume, cologne, and body odor. Claire had to force the small grateful smile at the 'polite' teenager, but it faded as soon as she and Jesse were alone in the office lobby.

"I _hate_ high schools," she said under her breath, digging the Press-ID with her recent picture out from the messenger bag on her hip.

Jesse brushed his hand against hers, one eye on the office in case anyone came in. "Why? Too many boys chasing after your hot tail?" he said with a slight smile. Claire snorted.

"Not exactly. Wasn't really the _best_ time of my life," she muttered, bellying up to the counter that divided the school admin offices from the rest of the lobby. "I didn't have many..._friends_."

A young woman darted out from one of the little rooms in the office on her way to the printer that sat beneath one of the four broad windows facing the outside of the building. When she saw the two of them on the other side of the desk her eyes widened slightly in surprise, then looked around with a slight scowl.

"Honestly..." she muttered under her breath, swiping up her print-off and quickly marching up to greet them. "Sorry, it looks like our admin stepped away for a second. Can I help you?" Claire's soft-natured smile was across her face as soon as the woman had walked in. Now that they had her attention, she started in without missing a beat.

"Oh, you're fine-we've only been here a few seconds. I'm Helen Bradberry, this is Jack Moss, from the Burlington Chronicle." Claire's smile brightened, but she kept it professional. Also with a hint of solemness that became more evident when the topic got more on point. "We're organizing a memorial page in honor of Katie Wright and Gail Johnston..."

Sincerity in every word, Jesse said, "We wanted to see about talking to some of their friends. Get some memories we can highlight."

The faculty woman frowned slightly. "You'll have to talk to the Dean about that. We don't typically let reporters come in and just talk to the student body." Putting her print-off on the desktop, she reached sideways beneath their line of sight to retrieve a business card, which she held out helpfully. "Sorry."

"No problem at all," Claire responded easily, taking the card with a quick glance, then handed it to Jesse. "I don't suppose the Dean's in? I know we should've called first, but we just got the email while running errands down at warehouse on 5th." Hoping to draw the young woman in with that baited statement, Claire scrunched her nose a little, smiling sheepishly, and offering an explanation.

"We're just interns."

"Oh, he's not here," the woman answered with a polite smile. "He'll be in the district office."

Taking a step forward, Jesse lowered his voice. "I don't want to get you in trouble by any means, so it'll be fine if you turn me down. But the memorial is so soon, and this tragedy has struck us all so hard, we think it's important to give it that true personal touch," he said, reaching out to lightly take her elbow. He gave her a soft, warm smile. "You have my word, we'll be absolutely discrete."

The woman blinked slowly in response. Then her cheeks flushed and she ducked her eyes down, giving a nervous sort of laugh.

"I suppose if you can guarantee that it won't be distracting to our faculty or the other students, I can allow it just this once," she said at last, reaching beneath the desk again to pull out two visitors passes. "Please sign your names on the roster."

* * *

><p>"So you two were friends with Katie and Gail?"<p>

Claire and Jesse stood at the thirty-yard line of the football field behind the school, opposite two Rock Point cheerleaders they'd snagged from practice. The two girls who'd been struck by lightning had been on the squad, according to the online year-book.

The brunette - Missy - nodded, looking genuinely grief-stricken at having to be forced to talk about her dead friends. "Basically since, like, preschool."

"Yeah," Kristen added, tugging on the end of her long blond ponytail over and over with her hands. "Our moms all went to school together, too. Second generation BFFs, y'know?"

"It's so awful, what happened."

"Totally awful."

"That must be really hard on you," Jesse said, brows knit in sympathy. "It sounds like you were really close. How were Katie and Gail before it happened? Their usual selves?"

Missy and Kristen shared a look, then Missy chewed her lip. Kristen spoke up, since it was obvious Missy didn't want to talk about it.

"Well, I mean, not really. It's weird. First Katie was the one spazzing out, then Gail started to. We couldn't even practice for four days because they kept ruining routine."

The words 'spazzing out' definitely caught Claire's attention. Her head canted delicately, brows pinched in the middle in concerned curiosity. "Were they upset about something?"

Missy shook her head again. "I mean, no more than normal, I guess."

"It's weird. They were talking, like... jibberish language, right? Writing it, too."

"Mr. Foges got so pissed off that he sent Katie to the Principal's office."

Kristen's eyes started welling up with tears. "Gail didn't even come to school the day Katie died. We didn't find out she died too until the next day. It was so awful."

Missy threw an arm around her and hugged her close. "I can't even imagine how Robbie's handling it."

Setting a gentle hand on her back, Jesse waited a moment before asking, "Who is Robbie? Katie's boyfriend?"

Missy nodded. "He saw her die. He was practically standing right next to her."

_Need to talk to Robbie_, Claire thought to herself, holding onto her somber expression, though the placement of Jesse's hand did draw her eyes. They discreetly snapped up to his face, all sorts of hesitations on her face.

"That's horrible..." she said quickly, but also meant it. Claire looked at the two girls again. "I'd like to see if he'd like to add something to the page-is he around?"

Kristen wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and shook her head. "He hasn't been at school since it happened. He won't answer his cell either. Said that's what Katie was going on about before..."

The girl faded off as tears overcame her and Missy hugged her harder.

"Can we maybe talk about this later?"

"Sure, of course," Jesse said, pulling a card from his wallet. It was simple, just the newspaper's name and Claire's cell phone number. "Just call and ask for Helen or Jack, whenever you want to talk."

Missy took it and stuck it into her fleece jacket pocket.

"'Bye," she said quietly, leading Kristen off to the bleachers where the two girls sat down. Two other cheerleaders joined them shortly after, their heads bowing together as they tried to comfort the crying girl.

Claire and Jesse headed across the grass toward the breezeway that lead to the school parking lot on the other side. Any number of steps could be taken next-the dead girl's boyfriend was definitely near the top of the list, but they didn't have a last name, and asking the two criers at that point in time would've been a little too risky.

She waited until they were a decent distance from the scattered congregation of students before speaking. "I'd like to catch a few of the teachers after classes end." Claire curled her fingers around the aluminum handle, pulling the door open for them both.

"Also-" she glanced at him, speaking a little more discreetly. "You might wanna watch where you put your hands. Meant-well or not, you're pushing thirty, they're sixteen, and we're on _very televised_ school grounds." Her chin nodded to the security cameras at intersecting corners.

Jesse raised an eyebrow, glancing the camera's way. "Shit, didn't even think. Just wanted them to trust us, you know?"

She nodded, understanding where his head was at. Still, they were in risky territory, as it was. "They might, but you don't want to be _too_ trusted. Or _memorable_, I should say. Last thing you want is to have more attention than you need."

"Ah, right. Being discrete," he said, giving her a quick wink. "Does that mean no talking to the office lady to see if we can get Robbie's address?"

"I'm starting to wonder if discreet is even in your vocabulary."

Claire stopped in her tracks. A flash of mixed chagrin and sheepishness washed across her face.

"Only on occasion," she replied, turning to face Kat. Even after trading in her jeans and boots for a dress skirt and heels, Kat would have been recognizable a mile away. A small part of Claire suddenly felt like she was eighteen again, and on the end of a laser scope that originated from the gun in the older woman's hands. The words _Bang. You're dead. Again._ filtered through her mind.

Though he couldn't deny the nervous flop in his stomach, Jesse turned to Kat with a smile. "G'day again. Didn't think we'd get the pleasure of seeing you again so soon."

Kat snorted. "Right. Pleasure. You're very lucky you can use that adjective right now. Hell, you're lucky you can use your words at all." She turned her eyes on Claire, looking all too much like a very angry mother. "I distinctly remember saying I had this under control." Claire felt a hot pang in the back of her throat, but maintained her faint smile.

"Couldn't resist," she said smoothly. "Gonna smack me with a ruler?"

"Cute." Kat's eyes moved past them, then back to their faces again. "Where's Shaggy?"

"Ridin' a desk," Claire answered, keeping a casual distance from Substitute Teacher Kat. "Newbie needs field time."

"That's not all he's needing," came Kat's rough answer. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "You're not gonna listen to me unless I go chasin' you outta town, are ya?" Claire's smile turned a little more genuine.

"Would _you_?"

Kat, on the other hand, didn't smile. "If I have to, I will." Her expression grew stern. Claire's smile faded a little in response; like she'd been reminded of something unpleasant, but crucial.

"Noted." She took a quick moment to glance behind her at the still empty hallway, then back to Kat, and finally up to Jesse. "Would you mind pulling the car around?" Her plea was quiet and fairly loaded, clearer in Claire's eyes than her actual tone. "I'll meet you out front in five."

Jesse's look was concerned but he knew Claire knew what she was doing. "Alright," he said, giving her elbow a squeeze. Then he looked at Kat. "Don't be too hard on her. She cares about you, and those kids." Claire closed her eyes for a moment, trying not to wince.

Kat arched her brows at Jesse but didn't say anything, watching him go. Once he was out of earshot, she turned her eyes back to Claire again, waiting expectantly. The younger huntress took a step forward, leaning in on habit, to keep the conversation no further than between them.

"We just got from under a really _nasty_ clusterfuck that's still going down. It's _big_, Kat, and they need... a change of scenery, at least for a little bit." What Claire didn't say was that she was included in those who needed a break. Like Kat had said: her hurt shoulder agreed with her.

Claire's hands were resting casually on the back of her hips, but her eyes were sharp and serious, peeking up at Kat from beneath her lashes. "You want us to back off, _fine_, but we're not leavin' til it's done."

Kat sighed again and frowned. A tiredness lurked around her eyes. "I'll call you when I'm done here. We'll compare notes. But please do me a favor and just... stay in the background on this, okay?" Claire kept her eyes connected with Kat's sharp mixtures of green and brown, then finally nodded.

"I'll be the ginger in the back that no one talks to."

Kat smirked slightly, then tutted at her. "Who's silently writing names down on The List, right?" She put her hand on Claire's good shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Get outta here before I call security."

* * *

><p>Ben rubbed his eyes blearily as he combed through the yearbook. Fortunately, there were only two potential Robbies in the same year as the reported deaths. It definitely made the interview process a lot simpler. Added bonus, it was his turn to go run out in costume, and with the facial scruff he was sporting, he was definitely looking the part of a grizzled cop.<p>

"So she said she was calling? Or that she was coming by?" Ben asked after a moment, writing the addresses to the two houses on a sheet of paper to take with him and cross-referencing them with google maps.

"Calling," Claire answered, her mouth full of Pad Thai with extra mushrooms from down the street.

Happily sitting back and eating on the bed instead of taking on any research. "Oh she'll come by. They always come by," he said with a grin before forking a piece of chicken. Claire shot him a sarcastic smirk.

"Does she even know where we're staying?" Ben asked, sounding a little confused. Once he finished writing down directions, he started stripping out of his clothes, standing up to moving to his duffelbag and drawing Jesse's gaze. Claire snorted, her smirk turning up to a full fledged grin, which turned to Jesse.

"Yeah, explain that one, _mate_," she ribbed Jesse lovingly, still chewing a piece of rubbery chicken. Her attention split when her phone started to buzz on the nightstand.

"Oh, they always find a way," Jesse said, a little bit of the flippancy tempered. Strange how just a bit of naked skin could seem so enticing. Shifting his take-out container on his lap, he tried to focus on Claire. "That her now?"

"Text message," she replied, quirking her brows at the unknown number on the screen. Her expression turned a little more sour. "A stupid _chain_ text." Claire knew she shouldn't have put her number in the hands of teenage girls. She tossed the phone lightly toward Jesse; it hit his thigh and settled on the bed.

Jesse snorted. "People still do that?" he said, picking up the phone. "'You have been cursed, exclamation point, exclamation point. Send this to twenty people or suffer the Curse of Babel, little red smiley face with horns.' Hey now, that's just an ignorant stereotype." With a grin, he tossed the phone back at Claire.

Ben had been midway through pulling on a new shirt, but immediately burst into laughter. His hair went every which-way once his head appeared through the neckhole. "Kids'll be kids."

Claire smirked at both of them and plucked the phone up from the bed. A quick swipe of her thumb deleted the nuisance. Ben settled on the end of the bed, pulling off his jeans and switching them out with trousers.

"So okay, I should only be gone two hours, three tops," he said, standing and belting up. He grabbed his hairbrush ran it through his hair a few times before he tossed it back into the bag. That done, he grabbed his better tie and looped it around his neck, starting to knot it.

"Guess Claire and I will have to find a way to pass the time without you..." Jesse said wistfully. Claire snickered mildly, already on her feet from the side of the bed. A second later, she was toe to toe with Ben, wordlessly taking on the task of tying his tie.

"Keep your head low," she muttered low, tightened the Windsor, and kissed the tip of his nose. He smiled in response. "I don't want Kat throttling me."

"Yes, ma'am," Ben replied smartly, then leaned in and kissed her soundly on the lips. He grabbed up his wallet from where it rested on the nightstand, as well as his favorite gun - which he tucked into his side holster - before heading over to where Jesse was still sitting.

"Don't tire her out too much," he told the other man with a faint smirk, then pressed his mouth to Jesse's as well. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth as he broke it, then gave him a wink before heading out the door.

* * *

><p>The headache wasn't as bad today, but eyestrain wasn't going to help. Staring at the lines of a social news feed next to the swirl of a music player with little to no light squeezing through the curtains was a sure-fire way of making sure his focus stayed in one spot. The hot feeling behind his eyes was a low tum, rather than the roar it'd been last night.<p>

It wouldn't take long for Robbie to work on that, but the light touch on his shoulder tore his attention away from the laptop screen. A vacant look turned up to the image of his mother, mouthing something below the bass in his ear-buds. He popped one out with a hooked finger.

"There's a detective wanting to talk to you," Janet Ferguson repeated down at her son, quietly, and squeezed his shoulder.

Robbie shuffled into the sitting room behind his much shorter mother, his brown eyes immediately set on the suited man waiting near the foyer.

"Hello, Robbie," Ben said, holding his hand out. "I'm Detective Wesson. I had a few questions about Katie."

"Questions?" Robbie said, though he automatically took the scruffy man's hand. "I already talked to the paramedics and cops."

"The cops passed on the report to me after the death toll hit ten people," Ben replied, his expression deeply empathetic. "From what I got out of the reports, you're the only eye witness to an occurrence, and I wanted to clear up a few discrepancies."

Robbie looked like he was just punched in the stomach. His mother spoke before he could even recover a breath. By the look on her face, they were thinking the exact same thing.

"_Ten_...people?"

Ben nodded. "Still all teenagers, from Rock Point. We're trying to find a connecting link between all of them, but there doesn't appear to be one."

"D'you check their phones?" Robbie jumped in, almost bitterly. His mother looked at him for a moment of silence, her expression full of complicated worry. He didn't flinch, or even look back at her.

Ben's expression twisted into confusion. "Phones? What's wrong with their phones?" The boy pressed his lips together and seemed to lose his nerve. His eyes fell down to the floor between his feet, shaking his head.

"It's just-Katie was acting very strange... near the end," Janet intervened weakly, looking at Ben. "It was among a lot of the things she was acting afraid of."

Ben turned his gaze to Robbie, frowning, then looked up to his mother. "Would it be all right if I spoke with your son privately?" Janet looked extremely reluctant, but didn't answer right away. Robbie's shoulders shifted, tied in knots from razor emotions and lack of sleep.

"S'okay, Mom," he muttered, pushing his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Janet tried to repress her sigh, but circled behind her son to pat his shoulder before heading down the hall.

Robbie didn't look directly at Ben. His eyes were glossed and aimed into the space between his knees.

"What is it about their phones that's so important, Robbie?" Ben prompted gently. "You can tell me. Even if it sounds crazy. Every bit of information I can get is helpful."

Robbie's Adam's apple bobbed with a thick swallow. His eyes stung even worse than they had in his bedroom, now that his focus was being forced onto the guilt he'd been trying to avoid for a week.

"They all got a text message," his voice scraped out. He still wouldn't look at Ben.

All the hairs on the back of Ben's neck rose. "What kind of text message?" Robbie set his jaw, and twisted his hands uncomfortably in his pockets.

"One'a those-_stupid_ chain-mail things," the teenager choked out, settling into a chair to put his head in one of his hands. He pushed his fingers roughly through his hair. "I got it on Friday an'sent it out-I don't even know why," Robbie's voice cracked, tightening in on it's own breath.

So he'd gotten the text, too. But he'd sent it. Ben's face blanched slightly. "Robbie... What did the text say?" Robbie shook his head again, clearly near tears.

"I was drunk. I don't even fuckin' remember-somethin' about being cursed."

"The Curse of Babel?" Ben prompted, a rushed quality to his voice.

"Yeah," he replied weakly after a sniff. "Yeah, that sounds like it."

_Oh god..._ Ben forced himself to keep his expression calm, even though his insides were rolling with fear. "Do you know where she got it from?" Robbie snapped a look up at the older man, his own expression reddened and wrought with grief and guilt.

"_I_ got it from some random number. _Katie_ got it from _me_...but she deleted it."

"Random number?" Ben asked, confused. "Do you still have it?"

Robbie put his head in his hands again, shaking it back and forth. "I pitched my phone in the river, man..."

_Dammit..._ Ben chewed the inside of his lip, then was struck with a thought: "Thank you, Robbie. You've been very helpful. I'm sorry for your loss." _We'll have to hack into the account to get a log of his incoming texts..._ Yet even as he thought it, his concerns were flaring, losing focus on the case and honing in on Claire. Claire, who had gotten the same text within minutes of his leaving.

* * *

><p>The hotel room was quiet, mid-afternoon sun filtering though the curtains. Things were a bit scattered and there wasn't a surface in the place where something hadn't been knocked over or mussed up, but there wasn't any rush in cleaning. Sprawled together on the bed, Jesse and Claire were naked and napping, one sheet mostly covering Claire. One hand halfheartedly dangling close to the nightstand, jutted out from under the pillow and her hair, the other pulled a bit on Jesse's arm, using him as a veritable blanket in her sleep.<p>

The peaceful image was shattered the instant the door opened. Ben had driven twenty miles over the speed limit in an attempt to get home faster. He'd had half a mind to call, but figured that it would be begging for a ticket if he did. He was quite surprised he _wasn't_ pulled over in fact, but the thought was fleeting; there was only room for one thought in his brain at that moment.

Unfortunately, the same could be said for Claire-in the moment the sudden and unexpected intrusion ripped her out of the short, but deep sleep, her brain clicked over to self-preservation, and her hand went for the pistol stashed against the side of the mattress. One instant, she was staring down the sight at the chest of the intruder-the next, she finally let out a breath and nearly melted when she saw who it was.

"For _fuck's sake_, Ben..." She flipped the safety back on and collapsed back on the bed.

Jesse hardly had his eyes open by the time Claire was up with the gun, and he sat up as she collapsed back. "Wha's going on?" he mumbled, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand before looking around. "Oh, you're back."

It felt like all his thoughts had slammed into a wall in his head. For a moment Ben stared at the both of them and sputtered, then physically shook his head to clear it.

"Please tell me you didn't delete that text message from earlier."

It took a minute to clear up what he was talking about. Brows furrowing, she flicked a bit of hair from her eyes, squinting at him. "Yeah, I did."

What color was left in Ben's face drained. His hands pushed up through his hair and he turned sideways away from them, his expression twisting with panic.

"Shit. _Shit!_ God_dam_mit!"

Now Jesse was awake. He slid to the side of the bed, pulling the sheet across him as he did. "Take a breath, mate, and tell us what's going on."

"It's the texts," Ben said, his hands coming away with thick strands of his hair. "It's real. The curse is following through the texts and killing anyone who doesn't send 'em." His eyes fell on Claire.

She didn't say anything. Most of her attention went into _really_ working through Ben's words, combing them through every angle in order to _not_ come up with the same inevitable conclusion. With every attempt, her heart beat a little tighter in her chest, until the slow blanching of her skin was near complete.

"_Hell._" Her eyes dropped from him, just as unfocused as the rasp word she uttered toward her lap.

"He said he got it from a number he didn't know. I'm gonna hack into the account and get it, that's the only lead I've got. We need to hack into all the cell accounts of the victims." Ben's voice was strained, and a closer look found him trembling.

Jesse looked between them, eyes widening. "I- No, you're not saying- It's not going to happen to Claire," he said, no room for argument. "Fucking lightning will have to get through me first." With slightly widened eyes, she looked over at him, rolling her lips, but said nothing.

Ben moved to the laptop where it sat on the table and flipped it open without saying a word. They would have to get the phone numbers of all the victims. There would be crying mothers and heartbroken fathers, and once again they had a time limit on their heads. _Fuck, I hate this goddamn job._

"Has Kat called?" He said around a dry throat. "When is she comin'?"

"She hasn't called," Claire replied quietly on the side of the bed, wiggling back into her clothes one article at a time. The task took her to various spots around the room before she found her phone, and swiped it's screen with the pad of her thumb. The brick in her stomach was one of the things actually keeping her calm, but she couldn't completely hide the note of fear in her voice when she looked at Ben.

"How long?"

"Don't say it like that," Jesse snapped, getting up to snatch on his clothes. His hands shook as he tried to button his jeans. "We're going to fix this."

"Get on the phone and call her," Ben said. "We need all hands on deck for this. She's got a few days of research on us we don't have; maybe she's got phone numbers."

Claire tore her eyes from the phone to Jesse, then back down. "_How long_, Ben..." she asked again, despite how her vocal chords felt like they were tying each other in knots. As much as a death sentence a good part of her considered this, Claire simply had to know. She had to know how much time they had to trace it all back-had to know what she was staring in the face.

Ben's eyes went unfocused on the screen. His heart felt like it dropped into his stomach. _Please, God, don't do this to me again. Not again. Not this soon. I can't..._

"Five days," he said hollowly.

"Right," Jesse said, his voice firm. "We have plenty of time." He grabbed up his shirt, tugging it on and fisting his hands to keep them from shaking. "We'll find this thing and kick its ass and that'll be it."

"We had plenty of time last time and everything fucking happened!" Ben suddenly shouted, his hands slamming on the sides of the cheap hotel table. The immediate silence that fell afterward was more like a roar, and Ben brought his hands up to his face, breathing hard and shuddering. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry... Just... call Kat."

Claire's swallow tasted like bile, but she forced it down. A sting was behind her eyes that a flutter of lashes wouldn't dissolve.

In silence, she inhaled deep and searched for Kat's number on her phone, while simultaneously heading for the hotel room door. The impending conversation promised to be about as stressful as the situation itself-Claire had to clear her head, and she had to do it alone.

Jesse wanted to follow her, but he wanted to talk to Ben more. "What the fuck, man?" he snapped, turning sharply and just holding back the impulse to give him a shove. Ben remained slumped over at the table, his back lifting and falling with each of his deep breaths.

"I said I was sorry," he said thickly. "Just drop it."

"Sorry doesn't take it back! You think I'm not worried? You think Claire isn't taking this worse than both of us?" Sick of Ben not looking at him, he shoved his shoulder. "We got work to do and you losing your shit won't help!"

He might as well have kicked at an angry dog. Ben knocked the chair down as he got to his feet, panic-stricken but furious.

"Don't fucking touch me," he growled out. "Don't tell me how to do my fucking job. We've been running on a goddamn stopwatch ever since my fucking birthday and while I'm out workin' you're fuckin'-" He stopped abruptly, running a hand over his mouth. "Either go help her, or shut up, but stay out of my way."

"Oh yeah, 'cause you sitting there like a kid who's spilled his milk is really doing your job," Jesse said, his eyes narrowed. "Yeah, you're so much better at this than me. I'll just sit in the corner with my thumb up my ass."

Ben glowered at him, picking up his chair from the ground and turning to sit back in it again. He pushed a hand through his hair to calm himself, then ran the number through a search engine to pick up what provider it went through. Right then, the electronic key in the door activated. Claire slipped through, wearing a much more steeled expression on her face than when she'd left.

"She'll be here in five," she informed them with a breath, moving across the room to Ben's bag, ultimately pulling out his flask. Ben looked up at her, feeling an ache in his chest. _We should've left. I should've said something, got us out of here,_ he despaired inwardly.

"Good. Good." He rolled his lips, the words twisting around in him, but he bit them back. There would be time for all that later. "Where's that list of all the victims? Maybe I can get their cell numbers off facebook."

* * *

><p>Besides the proverbial sword hanging over her head, the last two days hadn't been <em>too<em> terrible, as far as her experience with curses went anyway. Waking up the day after discovering the chain-text was responsible was terrifying, given the unknowns. Then she tried to speak-or she _did_ speak, but apparently in a language that wasn't English, despite what she could hear in her own ears and see on the pads of paper she tried to write on-but the result was always the same worried and confused faces on both the boys. They had heard the rumor of 'gibberish' being spoken by the afflicted, but besides utter frustration and crippling communication, at least it didn't _hurt_.

The next day brought her native language back, but also the same fear of the unknown-of what would happen to her. They all found out after the fifth time she tripped on absolutely nothing, whether it was in the hotel room, on the way to the car, or anywhere else. Every fifteen steps or so, no matter how careful or cautious she was, Claire's feet rebelled and spilled her to her knees, her hands, hips, elbows, and anything else that shot out to break her fall. By that night, she was bloody and bruised. She spent a lot of the night staring at the ceiling. The _what comes next_ thought was always harder to banish at night.

Yet somehow, she managed to fall asleep-only to be ripped back into consciousness less than an hour later, when the clock flipped to midnight. With crackling pops, an arc of blue static bridged between her body and the _multiple_ points of contact she shared with both Ben and Jesse, jarring her awake with a pained gasp.

Ben awoke with a jolt - literally - and a bit back yelp of pain. "Fuck! Jesus Christ, what the-"

Jesse jerked back from her, and right off the bed, landing with a crash. "What- Shit, what's happening?" he said, scrambling to his feet and turning in a circle to try to find what attacked them.

But nothing was attacking them-nothing more than a wide-eyed Claire, tense and poised on her knees on the bed, breathing like a frightened rabbit. Ben stared in bleary eyed confusion at her, trying to rub at least six different spots at once. Was this another damn curse in the works?

"Claire, are you-" he started, reaching out to touch her shoulder. Another static shock leaped up his arm and he withdrew hard, wincing, while Claire twitched back with a yelp of her own. "_Fuck._" He turned his eyes heavenward and threw his hand out to his side. "Really? _Really?_"

"What is she, electrified or something?" Jesse said, eyes wide. He'd seen the bright arch of light between them but it was hard not to ask the question. "This is the fucking most bizarre curse."

Claire just closed her eyes for a minute, things working themselves through an exhausted psyche that was trying like hell to fight them off. Ben moved his eyes off to the clock. 12:03 AM. Two days left. He swallowed, then raked his fingers through his hair and pushed himself down the length of the bed to get up.

"Try and go back to sleep, Claire," he said quietly. "I'm..." He shook his head, then went to his bag, pulling on a fresh shirt over his bare chest, then slipped on his shoes without any socks. "I'll be back in half an hour, tops."

Jesse stared at him, standing numb. "Where are you going?"

Ben scrubbed his face with his hands. "To get some coffee. Real coffee. No offense." His lips quirked in a not-quite-real smile. "I'll be back." He grabbed the keys where they were resting on the table in between the laptops, the metal clicking together like jingle bells as he headed toward the door. Before he moved through it he paused, pivoted, then looked at Jesse. "Wrap her in a blanket and hold her."

Then he was gone.

Swallowing hard, Jesse tried not to let the panic overtake him. _Just do what Ben said._ Tugging the blanket off the other bed, he gently wrapped Claire up, sliding in behind her to keep his arms around her. He leaned against her back, concentrating on slowing his breathing.

Claire had checked out mentally for those last few minutes, having heard the exchange, but not really letting the words sink in until Ben was gone and Jesse cocooned her with a scratchy hotel blanket. She flinched, expecting a shock, but got none. Still, the deepest base desire underneath every conscious thought wished hard for it to be gone. To feel his arms instead.

Her smaller frame inflated, then deflated slowly against his chest; a long sigh that was supposed to be cleansing. It wasn't.

"This sucks so hard..." she said, trying to keep it somewhat light.

Despite the twisting of his stomach, he tried to follow her lead. "I know. Normally I could be sexing you up right now..." His hold tightened. "We're gonna keep you safe. I don't care if it means I have to make a giant rubber room for you, no one's going to get hit by lightning."

Maybe it was the fatigue, maybe it was the monumental effort she was putting forth on keeping her thoughts away from the darkness of the situation-but the images put in her head by Jesse's words-particularly 'giant rubber'-were too much _not_ to laugh at. Her chuckle was weak, but somewhat genuine. Claire leaned her head back against the fold of blanket between it and his shoulder.

"...you said _giant rubber_."

A smile tugged at his lips. "Well then, double the use then. You into rubber? How come it's only the last couple days I found out you were kinky?" Claire snorted faintly.

"I'm not _that_ kinky..." She paused for another long breath, and let it out through her lips. "I used to be a very different person-long before you two met me."

Jesse frowned slightly, tilting his head to look at her. "What do you mean?"

She shook her head a little, letting her eyelids grow a little heavy. _God_, she was tired-but sleep didn't seem that much of a priority that week.

"They say every girl has a wild phase," she began. Nostalgia mixed with a little bitterness was in her voice. "Mine came with killing things."

"Well, you're a hunter," he said, still uncertain. He wished he could kiss her. "Comes with territory, doesn't it?" Claire's brows lifted a little as she nodded in response.

"Yeah, it does..." her voice trailed a little. Safe to say, Claire was contemplating her life. People in their life-situation didn't often have the luxury of time-staring down a concrete death sentence made one think, especially when there was down time involved. She adjusted her head on his shoulder, craning her neck a bit, so she could look at him. "Remember when I said I was Catholic?"

He nodded, keeping his mouth shut. He had a feeling this was something that was more about what she needed to say and not how he responded.

"There was a time that everything I did, everything I _thought_ flew in the face of that fact-and I do mean _everything_. I justified it as 'survival'," again, Claire shook her head and rolled her lips. "In the end, it was just me running away from everything that had turned my life upside down. Learned a few things about myself between seventeen and twenty. Since then, I've learned to pick apart what was really part of me, and what actually was just 'survival'."

Not entirely sure what she was referring to, Jesse just nodded again. "Learned a few things about myself between seventeen and twenty, too."

"Probably the same things," Claire nodded to herself. She knew she was being vague, but he'd have to forgive her. Some things weren't easy for her to say to other people.

Luckily for them both, Ben chose that exact moment to return. The door clicked as he ran the card key through it, then the door lever went down. He did not, however, have a cup holder with coffee in it. Instead he had a plastic bag, which he brought over to the bed silently and started unloading. Out came a family size bag of tropical Skittles, Hawaiian Kettle Style Sweet Maui Onion chips, and a bottle of sweetened Ceylon tea. The last item Ben took out more carefully: it was a stuffed teddy bear, wearing a patent brown leather jacket with sun glasses.

Claire's heart lightly flipped when she laid eyes on him, then constricted when she actually saw everything in his hands. The smile on her face was genuine, even if it was touched by a distinct sadness.

"You liar..."

Jesse's smile at him was soft as Ben gave a small shrug and smiled back at them both faintly, passing the bear to her. She took it, her teeth firmly locked on her bottom lip, biting down hard. Claire had to keep her eyes on the bear's face to keep from looking at Ben, at _either_ of them.

"I'm gonna stay up for a bit," Ben said after a moment. "Get back to combing through the spider-web. Maybe call Rosie and see if she could help us out."

Jesse didn't know who he was kidding if he thought any of them were going to be able to sleep. But he'd try for Claire's sake. "C'mon," he said, nudging her back through the blanket. "Wanna get our snuggle on."

* * *

><p>Kat was having a horrible time not killing everyone in the room right about then.<p>

Playing at substitute teacher was proving to be a lot harder of a disguise than she thought, especially given that she'd chosen an actual class where actual learning took place and not something like art or music. Kat did not play an instrument, and could not do artistic things. In all truth, she knew absolutely nothing about Contemporary American Government either, but fortunately the teacher had a PowerPoint presentation. All she really needed to do was click the button and read it aloud.

If only it were that simple.

Kat was starting to wonder if her own daughter was as mischievous as these awful children were. She went to private school because Gavin had a well-paying job to make up for the fact that she was moreorless a drifter. Public school kids were monsters in designer labels. There was not enough rock salt and iron to handle it, though; not without spending time behind bars.

"If I hear one more whisper or see one more note passed, you're all going to Principal Myer's office," she barked, cutting herself off from her reading on the early 21st century political campaigns. She remembered those. She got a concussion slipping on a patch of ice voting in the primaries. It had been the first time she'd voted in three terms. It was also the last.

The immediate silence filled Kat with a sense of smugness that she was able to command the attention of so many young minds, but she knew it wouldn't last long. Fortunately, class would be over in about 25 more minutes. A little earlier, if Claire could help it.

According to the Rock Point High School curriculum, Sasha Green was in the class that Kat was currently infiltrating, like a reluctant spy in a skirt and pair of sensible heels. Claire stood on the other side of the classroom's open door, angled carefully as to catch the other hunter's attention without drawing the eye of every A.D.D. sufferer in the class. Kat caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and frowned, finishing off the sentence before going over to flip on the track lights. The students blinked as if they'd looked up into direct sunlight, and immediately a buzz of conversation started.

"Talk amongst yourselves," Kat said, releasing them. The room immediately doubled in volume as she went to the door and opened it. Claire stepped back a bit into the hall, her eyes turned over her shoulder down the row of lockers-both out of habit and caution.

She was _warm_, uncomfortably so, thanks to the fitted thermal and fingerless gloves (the only ones she could find in the car) beneath her green canvass jacket. The boys lightly joked about her looking like _Rogue_, whoever the hell that was. Either way, it was a better alternative to electrically charging anyone that brushed by her. A crowded high school hallway was not something she wanted to endure.

"You're early," Kat said, as if Claire wasn't already aware of it. She frowned, clearly annoyed with everything that existed in her life.

"Can you blame me?" Claire shot back a little under her breath, then twitched her chin in the direction of the classroom. "Our next kid's in there."

"Which one? I'll get her out." Kat paused, her brows furrowing a little, then started to reach for Claire's face. "You've got an eyelash-"

"_Nononodon't-!_" Claire's hard-wire self-defense kicked in as she arched away from Kat's touch, but unfortunately couldn't stop herself from grabbing the older woman's wrist. The blue arc sparked beneath her exposed fingers in a crackle of air, and a hiss of pain.

"Sonofab-" Kat managed to shove her fist into her mouth before she finished, but the outrage was clear on her face. "The hell was that!" Claire's breathing pushed through the lingering charge, flaring her nostrils until it calmed. She put her hands on her hips, and shook her head.

"Welcome to day three," she uttered bitterly. "Sasha Green's the one we need."

Kat glowered, but not specifically at her, then stormed into the room. In an instant, teenagers started flooding out of the hallways, looking very much like they couldn't wait to be out of there.

"Can't wait until Mr. McFarland is back," said one student.

"...Crazy bitch from Substitute Teacher Hell," said another. Claire fought the urge to throw her hands in the air over their heads, instead avoided contact with them all by shoving them in her pockets. When the flood passed, she made her way into the room.

Sasha Green sat in a desk near the back, her ankles crossed as she chewed the nails of her left hand viciously. When Claire came toward her she visibly tensed up.

"I didn't do anything, I swear."

"Gimme your phone," Claire demanded in a low, but even voice. The girl pulled out the phone immediately and held it out for her, eyes pointed at the desktop. The huntress took it, trying like hell not to bridge contact between her fingers and the girl's, but in her fatigue and growing frustration, the attempt failed. Static snapped between their fingers and Claire reeled her hand back, sucking in a breath and very visibly trying to keep herself from swearing. The girl winced also, her eyes lifting with a mild sense of alarm.

"Is this about Rayne Peterson?" Claire looked at Kat, then back to Sasha before turning her attention down to the device in her hand, already scanning through the old text messages.

"What do you know about Rayne Peterson?"

Sasha winced again and looked down. "You mean aside from the fact that she's a devil worshipper?"

Kat, who was standing a few inches to her left, immediately grew tense and shoved her hands into the pockets of her skirt. All movement on Claire's account ceased for a few moments, her eyes locked on the teenage girl.

"What makes you say that?" she chanced, careful to avoid feeding the girl information that could be used to just fuel some harmless rumor, but the connection made was uncanny.

"Well, everyone knows that," Sasha said to the desktop. "She wears all black, even paints her nails black, and she has that pentagram thing on her neck." Claire's jaw tightened a little, but she said none of the automatically defensive things that popped in her mind. Teenagers could be extremely cruel and judgmental-she herself was similarly ostracized simply for the fact that she suddenly came from a single parent home. Gotta love Catholic School.

"So why would you automatically think I wanted to talk about Rayne?" Another baited question.

Sasha shifted in her seat. "Well... her locker got tagged last week." Claire tilted her head, staring the girl down with a very humorless half-grin.

"And I suppose you had nothing to do with that..."

"Well _I_ didn't," Sasha said, conviction in her voice as she looked up with a firm lift of her chin. "But I'm no nark."

"Y'know," Kat drawled, the lazy quality of her tone a facade to the heat in her words, "If you kept that kind of information away from the cops? You'd be arrested for obstruction of justice." Claire found what she was looking for on the girl's phone, then turned it around to show her. A forwarded message, sent to twenty different people.

"And we got a lot of names to match..."

Sasha's face paled. "It was Robbie. Robbie Bennet. And the other football players."

"Why'd they do it," Claire calmly demanded the information, again looking down at Sasha's phone, trying to track it to the original sender.

"How should I know?"

Kat narrowed her eyes at her. "Do you have everything you need, Miss Bradberry?"

Claire huffed a long breath, locking eyes with the girl before glancing at Kat with a short nod. She set the phone down on the desk and turned toward the larger one at the front of the room, grabbing a pen and post-it to write the memorized number down.

"You can go, Sasha."

Once the girl had left, Kat sighed and moved to stand next to Claire. "I'll meet up with you three after I get out of here." Claire nodded quietly, eying the piece of paper in her hand before she pushed it in her pocket.

"We'll be close," she said, and headed for the hallway.

* * *

><p>The boys were already leaning on the GTO when Claire made it out to the school parking lot. The look in their eyes was conflicted, but not hopeless-or maybe she was just projecting that part. Claire dug the post-it out of her pocket as she approached, squinting into the glare of the sun.<p>

"Got something?" Jesse said, moving to meet her but keeping a safe distance. He never thought his heart would hammer so hard just over seeing a little scrap of paper.

"Another number," Claire sighed tiredly, rubbing her eye with the back of her gloved hand. "And a name... _Rayne Peterson_."

Ben frowned thoughtfully. "My kid brought her name up, too. Can't be a coincidence."

"You got her address? You need me to go in and get her address?" Jesse said quickly, nodding at the school.

"We can get her address in thirty seconds on the laptop-better idea than pushing luck with the admin." In other words, Claire didn't like the idea of going back in the school. In the time crunch, she'd been a bit..._brisk_ with Sasha, and she couldn't jeopardize Kat's position, just in case. Claire very carefully handed the number to Ben, watching them both. "What'd _your kid_ say?"

Ben pressed his lips into a thin line and swallowed, running his hand over the back of his neck. "That she was dating Robbie secretly and something about a rumor that she was pregnant," he said in a low voice. "Was being the operative." Claire paled, and felt herself get a little sick.

Jesse stared at him. "When the fuck did we drop into an episode of _Rivalry High_?"

"Mine said she's a-and I quote, _devil worshipper_," Claire emphasized the words with air quotes, then pushed her hand through her hair. "Sounds like our next stop."

Ben pocketed the sticky note and pulled out the keys, opening the door for Claire. "Actually, check and see on your phone if you can do a look-up. We don't have to head back; we can hit it up right away and go from there. No time to waste, right?"

There was one thing to be said about these safe-haven New England towns-everyone listed their address. And if they didn't it wasn't exactly a difficult task to find them, when one knew where to dig. Twenty minutes after leaving the school, the GTO pulled into a no-outlet cul-du-sac lined with brick bungalows and old oak trees in front yards.

"That one," Claire pointed when she spotted the numbers on the plain mailbox out on the drive. Ben left the car still-running, popping the handle on the door to slide out.

"Back inna sec," he explained, heading toward the front door. He barely had a chance to lift his hand to knock when a door suddenly opened and a young woman stuck her head out.

"The Petersons aren't in," she said, smiling. "I'm taking mail and stuff for them, though."

"Oh, uh," Ben stammered, frowning a little. "Actually, I needed to talk to them about their daughter, Rayne. She ran up my nephew's phone bill with text messages and my sister's gonna be pissed if I don't get it sorted out. Is there any way I can reach them?"

The young woman frowned thoughtfully. "Well they went camping. Down in New York, I think. Near Blaires Bay."

Ben smiled politely. "I don't suppose you have a number I could call or something?"

"Sure, yeah, lemme go get it," she said, then shut the door briefly behind her. She returned within moments, holding a small leaf of note paper. "Here ya go. Sorry I can't be more helpful."

"Oh, don't worry, you've helped plenty. Thanks, have a good day."

Jesse nearly got out of the car when he saw Ben coming back so quickly, but he managed to hold back. "Who was that? Her sister?" Claire watched Ben's face the whole way back to the car; it was pretty obvious that the family wasn't at home-but it was also obvious that they weren't just out for dinner.

"Don't tell me..."

"Camping," Ben said with a hint of flatness to his tone. "Luckily we've got a better lead this time. Guess we better head back to the hotel and check out, but I got another number to call." He slid back into the seat, holding the note paper over his shoulder for Claire to take.

* * *

><p>Trying to sleep on the GTO's front benchseat might not have been so bad, if Jesse didn't have to share it with Ben. He'd thought it would be pretty easy considering they slept pretty tangled with each other most nights, but clearly the bed made all the difference. Trying to make a pillow out of the door and his jacket, he stared out into the mostly dark campground. He could spot a campfire from where they'd parked, but he wasn't surprised. The place was packed when they finally got there. Finding Rayne and her family before nightfall turned out to be impossible and they had to get a spot just so they could stay there. Since a couple of guys tromping through the woods looking for a teenage girl probably would set off a few alarms, they voted to get some rest and search in the morning.<p>

It had been a very optimistic thought. The minutes were ticking away at a snail's pace. Jesse wished he had a clock somewhere. It felt like it had been the whole night already but he had a feeling it was still early.

Sheer exhaustion had forced Claire to wrap herself in a blanket in the back seat and succumb to sleep, rather than wait out the clock to see what was in store for her after it switched over midnight. It had been surprisingly easy, but it hadn't been long. For two, maybe two and a half hours, she'd been silent and still across the seat. She didn't even hear the delicate alarm on her phone _beep beep beep_ from under her jacket on the floor.

But she _did_ wake up. Not with a jolt, like last night, but with a rolling roar of sensation that hit her consciousness like a tsunami. _Heat_, first just at an uncomfortable level but escalating quickly to a searing, chemical burn everywhere the blanket touched her. Claire's eyes opened, instinct zeroed in on the feeling as she shot upright on the seat, and shoved the blanket off her shoulders-but her legs were suddenly on fire as well-reddening and sizzling the back of her thighs under the hem of her shorts. Barely two seconds had passed from peace to hellfire-and gasping, Claire started to kick against the seat.

Ben had barely fallen asleep - the GTO was much less comfortable than his car had once been - when suddenly he was awake again, fear sending his pulse off at a gallop. He shot up in his seat and turned around rapidly in alarm.

"What's wrong? What's happening?" he pressed, Jesse jerking around at his voice.

"_GETOUTGETOUT!_" Claire's voice both hissed and screamed in exponentially growing pain and alarm. If she tipped her hips back to keep her thighs off the seat, her shoulders touched the back cushion. If she grabbed the seat in front of her, her palms felt like they were branded. Her heart flailing in the center of her chest, Claire felt like a bird in a cage that'd been set on fire. "I'M _BURNING_!"

Already half-crawling over the seat, Jesse screamed back, "Where? I'll put it out, tell me where!"

Ben threw the car door open in his haste, shoving back the bucketseat. "Get her out!" he hollered.

Grabbing her by the waist, Jesse hefted her out of the back, pulling her out with him. He circled her as they got to their feet, trying desperately to find the fire. But there was nothing.

The intense pain started to ebb as soon as her exposed skin was free of anything touching it, but the damage had clearly been done. Smudged red blotches of _extremely_ irritated skin, some darker than others, radiated heat and pain across her arms and legs. Claire's heart hammered as hard as her breaths as she looked down at herself in stunned awe, laced with horror.

"CAS!" Ben shouted up into the sky. "Where the _hell_ are you! Don't you know what's happening to Claire!" He kicked at the ground hard. A few angry indiscernible shouts sounded from the nearby campers. "Dammit. _Dammit._"

"It's going away," she huffed, unaware of the streaks of tears that automatically spilled from her eyes in the torment. The adrenalin coursing through her veins certainly helped. "We just gotta find her..." _And pray that Rayne is the one we actually need_.

His face drawn in sympathy, Jesse took her hand to pull her into a hug, but to Claire, it felt like she'd just been grabbed by a red-hot glove of iron. Her gasp choked down most of the scream as she yanked her hand away thanks to sheer self-preservation, and held it by the wrist with the other. The skin was a deep pink, and visibly trembling.

"Jesus Christ," Ben hissed, his eyes wide with terror. How were they going to help heal her cuts?

"Jess... can you mojo some sort of thing around this?"

Jesse stood, his hand still frozen where she yanked away, his eyes fixed on her wrist. "I-I don't know. I don't know what to try. Fuck, Claire, I'm sorry." Claire swallowed hard, her eyes clamped shut to force the dissolving burn away faster than it actually was. She shook her head, steeling herself against the onslaught of her new reality; against what this day was going to be like if they weren't able to do what they were there to do. She prayed to God that it didn't start to rain.

"How far you think we'll get if we start bustin' in tents?" she rasped. Obviously, her cautious, careful approach to these things was wearing thin.

"You mean before we get thrown out for disrupting the peace?" Ben replied bitterly. "Two. _Maybe._"

"Unless I talk to them," Jesse said, his jaw set. "I'll make everyone be fine with it. Helpful even. What'd the girl look like again?"

"Goth chick," Ben answered, chewing viciously on his lower lip. Claire needed the moral support for what she was going through, but Jesse was still new at hunting. Would he be able to keep a level head without one of them there with him? Ben's eyes fell to Claire with silent uncertainty. She met his eyes with a pained, but clear understanding.

"Go on," she said finally, swallowing again before forcing a small, crooked smile on her lips. Her still burning hands lifted from her hips in a weak display, as if to say _look at me_-she was still in a tank top and shorts, with knee high socks on the grass. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

Ben made a plaintiff noise in response, wanting so desperately to comfort her in some capacity. All of this was just too much to handle, and he wasn't even the one it was happening to directly. The whole experience was so, _so_ similar to what had happened to his mother and sister. It was killing him.

"We'll be back quick. You won't even know we were gone."

His throat feeling too swollen to speak, Jesse just nodded. And then he headed for the other campers. He was going to find this little snot before Claire even got tired of standing. Ben quickly trotted after him, matching his step once he caught up. He remained silent as they started the slow process of going to every tent and RV.

As Jesse said, the search went smoothly. There was an initial bump each time they woke the tent or RV up, but a quick word from Jesse found them complacent and quick to answer that no girl named Rayne was there. Jesse's requests got terser and terser as he went on, but no one complained.

Finally they hit an RV where a girl wearing far too much make-up for the middle of the night in the middle of the woods was sitting outside.

"You Rayne?" Jesse snapped.

"_Yeah_," the girl answered before really thinking about it. Her sour expression remained as thick as the make-up on her face. Obviously, she wasn't exactly thrilled about the family camping trip, by the distance between her and her picnic-table perch, and the family Winnebago. Her eyes switched back and forth between the two. "Who th'fuck'er you?"

Ben frowned. "We know what you did, Rayne. With the chain texts. And we want you to make them stop."

A clearer _what-the-fuck_ expression would never be found. Rayne's green eyes lost their focus for half a second, then widened before she got a hold of her usual, cynical self. "You don't know what you're talking about," she said with a little less conviction than she had hoped. She looked away from them to put a cigarette between her lips and light it up.

In two short steps, Jesse snatched the cigarette away and grabbed her arm. Rayne stiffened and shrieked, trying to pull away. "You will tell us what you did and you undo it all! People have fucking died and that stops now!"

"Who the fuck are you?" she croaked out.

Ben grabbed his forearm in return, pulling it back.

"Jess," he said firmly, a warning in his voice.

Gritting his teeth, Jesse let go of her though he didn't pull away. "Spill, brat. While you can."

"If you don't stop it, we will stop you," Ben said flatly. "So we're asking you to lift it, and we're only asking once."

New-found fear mixed with the confusion in the girl's eyes-lost on just how she'd supposedly been tracked by two complete _fucking strangers_.

"I-I _don't know_. I don't know how to stop it..."

Ben fought the urge to groan. _Great. An amateur,_ he thought bitterly. "So you cast a spell without knowing how to start it. Great. Awesome job, Silver Ravenwolf." He paused, frowning severely. "Where's your phone?"

"_Hey_, I didn't think it would actually _work_! _Nothing_ ever worked before-" Rayne looked a combination of terrified and pissed-off. "My dad's got it. 'Cause we're 'having family time'..."

Shrugging away from Ben, Jesse grabbed her by her shoulders, his face inches from hers. "Where did you learn the spell?" he said, leaving no room for dodging the question.

"Jesse, stop it!" Ben barked. "Priorities, man. Go get the cellphone."

"If she doesn't know how to fix it, we gotta find someone who can!" Jesse snapped back over his shoulder.

"Get the goddamn cellphone _now!_" Ben said sharply, his whole body tensing, ready for a fight.

Glaring at him, it was a long pause before Jesse pulled back, stomping towards the RV. Ben turned his eyes to Rayne Peterson, his jaw tense.

"Do you know what happens when you dabble in black magic, Rayne Peterson?" he asked. Without letting her finish, he barreled on. "I'm sure you listened in the church service, but lemme tell ya: the Bible is a bedtime story in comparison to the real thing. Plus? They forget to warn you about people like me." He flipped his coat open, revealing his gun. "You see... a person I love is suffering because of you. Someone who is innocent to this crap and has nothing to do with your revenge. And when you hurt my friends, it makes it very hard for me to be sympathetic to your bullshit teenage drama."

"Look, I'm sorry about your _friend_, but if it ain't one thing, it's another-and _no one_'s innocent. Everyone suffers," the teenager spat out in her chaotic state between lost innocence and harsh reality. "If I knew how to stop the damn thing, I'd tell you-but I _don't_...so go'head and fuckin' shoot me. In the middle of Yogi Bear's Campground."

With a slam of the RV door, Jesse half-ran back to them, his expression still tense as he held the phone out to Ben. Ben immediately dropped it to the ground and put the heel of his boot through the viewing pane. Rayne winced visibly, but made no noise more than a disgruntled groan.

"Go check on Claire," Ben said to Jesse, keeping his eyes on Rayne.

Turning to take off back towards the GTO, Jesse mentally kicked himself. Stopping short and shaking his head, he disappeared.

_That_ got a little more of Rayne's attention. She stared at the empty space were the hot-headed one was no longer standing, then looked at the other. "So..." Her nose wrinkled under furrowed brows. "What are you, like... the _witch police_?"

"No," Ben said darkly. "We're hunters. We spend every waking moment of our lives saving people from monsters like you." Rayne twitched with a hard, short breath that made no sound, then sneered faintly.

"_Monsters like me_." The girl rolled her eyes under the heavily lined lids, doing what she did best with emotions she didn't know how to deal with; all the persecution, the betrayal and terror her life had been marinated in lately was turned outward. Misery really did love company. "We're _all_ monsters. So have fun with that."

Ben gave her a thin-lipped smile. "Is that what your crossroads demon said to make you feel better?" She sneered at him again, mocking his smile with its twisted counterpart.

"I didn't need to be told that by some demon."

Ben felt his heart sink a little, but he didn't let it show on his face. "So... standard fifteen years, I take it?"

"What's it matter to _you_?" she shot back. It was a bit less mocking, and the sour look had returned to her face, but it went a lot deeper this time. Ben looked into the teenager's green eyes and tried to imagine what she looked like without the black hair and the heavy pancake makeup. She might have been innocent once, in the truest sense, but high school was a cruel place... even worse if the rumor about her pregnancy was true. She would suffer forever for making a deal, though; nothing would save her. It was heartbreaking. Crossroads deals were damn near unbreakable, but given the cost, Ben was pretty sure she would have ended up there anyway.

Nearly tripping into Ben when he reappeared, Jesse's face was a lot softer. "She's fine. No burning, nothing. I have her sitting in the car," he said, before his eyes turned to Rayne. "What do we do with her?"

"Nothing," Ben answered. His jaw tightened briefly as he leaned in and spoke directly to Rayne. "If we hear of any other supernatural deaths in this area, though, count on having your contract shortened." Then, a little louder, "C'mon, Jess."

Jesse stared at him. "What? We're just letting her get away with it?"

"Oh, don't worry," Ben reassured him, smiling thinly again at the teenager. "She's expecting a visitor in fifteen years that'll do the job much better than you or I could do."

"Fifteen years?" Jesse said, the tension coming back to his face. "If she was a vampire, would you let her sit around fifteen years to get punished? She killed people!"

"And seemingly without any guilt," Ben added. "That makes it even better." His voice got harder. "We're going. Now."

"Why are you the one giving orders?" Jesse turned sharp towards him. "I don't remember voting that whatever you fucking say is what goes. She's gonna hurt more people! She hurt Claire!"

"Yeah, _Boss_," Rayne's sharp and angst-ridden voice added. "Just let'im do what he wants. Couldn't be as bad as what that gun was for, huh? Said yourself I got it comin'."

"Because you can't kill something that's already dead," Ben said in a low voice. It wasn't necessarily true - zombies, vampires and ghosts, for instance, were _very_ dead and gankable - but in this particular instance it was moreorless a metaphor. He took a breath, then let it out. "I'm sorry you lost your baby. And I'm sorry that they hurt you so intensely that you felt the need to go make a deal with a demon to get them back. What they did was horrible, but you didn't need to retaliate. People who were completely uninvolved are now dead because of it. Now you get to live with their deaths _and_ your child's."

Rayne's eyes changed; they sharpened with every unguarded negative emotion she'd been using to fuel her nihilist snark and cynicism. The pain he laid into bare words manifested as a gravel in her voice that made her sound a lot older than she was: "_You_ live it-then see what you say about retaliation."

The anger that had been boiling in Jesse's throat eased. She was a kid. It didn't negate the horrible things she had done, but horrible things were done to her, too. And she had worse to come. Turning his back to her, he said quietly, "Alright, let's go."

Ben let Jesse head off first, following behind him a few steps slower. For all that he was deeply thankful that Claire wasn't suffering anymore, right then he just wanted a few minutes alone.

* * *

><p>The sun hadn't quite made it over the horizon yet, though the gray morning was slowly fading the night sky. Claire had slept the entire drive back to Burlington and the hotel, but the boys had only been out since they returned around four in the morning. She was still exhausted, but the plan was to leave before check-out in a few hours, and Claire had something to take care of yet.<p>

Three knocks on Kat's hotel room door accompanied the sounds of morning birds and the occasional truck down the road. She leaned against the jamb, long arms folded tiredly across her middle. It took a few moments before the door finally opened. Kat stood on the other side, her hair a frazzled mess and sleep in her eyes. Before Claire could even get a word out she opened the door further, silently inviting her in.

Claire wound through the open door, then nudged it shut behind her-a habitual and somewhat jovial look sent around the room. Not that she expected anyone else there. Even if Kat had taken some poor idiot back with her, he would've been kicked out long before dawn.

Kat moved toward the small kitchen on automatic, her hands going through the motions of starting up a pot of coffee.

"Just like old times, eh?" she muttered in a sleep-graveled voice. Claire smirked.

"'Cept I distinctly remember always being the one making coffee." She settled against the dresser, her hands curled on it's edge by her hips.

"Figured I'd be nice, just this once." Kat paused when the work was done, turning around to rest against the countertop, the edge of it making indents in the heels of her hands. Even when tired, her eyes were intent and sharp like a hawk's. "You okay, kiddo?"

_Again with the 'kiddo'_. Despite her lingering hatred for that pet-name, Claire looked at the older huntress, smiling faintly. "Can't complain," she replied, then scooted to actually sit on the dresser top. There may've been plenty she could complain about, but to little use. Plus, whenever something _did_ slip out, Kat was always quick to knock it down. Put a lot of things in perspective. "We're heading out in a couple hours."

"Don't tell me you woke me up just to tell me g'bye," Kat grumbled out goodnaturedly. "I'da been fine with a call when you guys got back on the road." Claire chuckled under her breath.

"Who needs sleep?"

"_I_ do," Kat shot back. "'Case you didn't know, I'm 42. I didn't live to be the answer to the ultimate question by working on four hours of sleep like you insane asylum outpatients do." Claire rolled her eyes a little, but was still smiling.

"You can go back to sleep when you kick me out-no school on the weekends."

"Has everything been handled?"

Claire's smile slightly faded, but she nodded. "As much as we could. The curses are broken, and there won't be any more..." she prayed, anyway.

"I'll stay for a few days just to make sure, then," Kat said. Her lips thinned into a frown. "So next time you'll listen to me, right?"

"I always listen to you," Claire replied honestly. Then shrugged in a slight confession, looking at the carpet. "Eventually."

Kat sighed, and even though Claire wasn't looking at her, she knew the other woman was scowling. "I'll just lie about why I'm around next time, then. Better that than for you to get caught up in something like this and end up hurting yourself."

A small pang of prideful annoyance tensed Claire's shoulders. Her lips thinned to a line across her chin, and she looked back up.

"Not seventeen anymore, Kat. If I step in shit, I know how to clean it off."

"_Do you?_" Kat countered pointedly. The coffee pot started bubbling over, filling the hotel room with the familiar aroma. Kat didn't even turn around, but she did rub her forehead in frustration. "Because I'm thinkin' if you'd been watching where you were walkin', you never wouldda stepped in shit to begin with. To borrow your turn of phrase." The other woman shook her head and huffed a breath. "I'm not lookin' for a fight, Claire. What's done is done, yadda yadda, you know the script as well as I do, but you're still roughed up from your last go. You keep gunnin' at full speed without stoppin', one of these days you're gonna get T-boned. I don't want that happening to you."

As much as Claire's lingering sense of pride bristled, a deeply ingrained habit of staying quiet when someone else was speaking - especially someone she considered an authority - kept her silent as Kat continued. By the end of it, her annoyance had faded to practically nothing. She was right-they'd been going non-stop since Ben's birthday. They were all tired and more than a little wrinkled from wear. Claire inhaled, then sighed, letting the pause linger.

"Maybe it's time for a month on the beach," she uttered quietly, but not literally. A month to relax sounded like Heaven, but it wouldn't exactly be a vacation. And it _definitely_ wouldn't be at a beach.

"Think we'll get any research done in Vegas?" She smiled at the older woman, hopefully.

Kat snorted. "No, probably not. But it might do you some good." She paused a moment in thought, then moved over to where her cellphone was resting on her bedside table. After a few seconds scrolling through it, she grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, jotting down a number.

"This is a contact of mine in the area, though. His name's Lucas. Brilliant kid, tough as nails too. Mostly peddles information. He might have some leads on that shit you were telling me about before and if not, you can bet he'll find some."

Claire took the number, glancing at it before she tucked it in her jacket's inner pocket. "Sure you don't wanna come with? I'm not the only one who needs to let off some steam. Hell, you could retire there-find yourself a nice Elvis impersonator." _Now_ she was grinning.

"You are so lucky I'm tired right now," Kat muttered, moving back into the kitchen to get herself that coffee. "Go get some sleep. It was nice catching up. Be good, you have my number, et cetera."

"I'll put you down for a Sigfried and Roy Wedding," the younger blond joked, well aware that she was pushing her luck. Wouldn't be right if she didn't at least get Kat to act like she was going to throw her out the door.

"I will throw hot coffee at you; I don't care if you're injured," came the older huntress's response. She filled one of the generic ceramic mugs and wheeled around with mock menace, meeting Claire's laughter. "Out, out, get out!"

"Alright, alright!" she chuckled, shuffling to the door. Claire pulled it open and gave Kat a long look over her shoulder-more pointed than words could convey. Then she smiled a little brighter, and blew the older woman a kiss before slipping out into the dawn.

"Bye-bye Kit-Kat," she quipped right before shutting the door behind her. Kat sighed, took a sip from her mug, and watched Claire's shadow pass her windows before disappearing from sight.

"'Bye, Clairebear," she said to the empty room. A sad nostalgia filled her before she pushed it back, filed it away, and began getting ready for her day.


	20. Deleted Scene: Behind the Wheel

The GTO's growl faded off from the hotel parking lot with Ben behind the wheel. The hotel walls were thin enough that Claire could sort of hear their next-door neighbor's TV blaring some god-awful John Wayne movie, as well as the rhythmic vibration of the occupant's deep snore.

"Think you can switch that TV off with those nifty brain-powers?" she said to Jesse, smiling at him as she plucked a mushroom from her dinner and popped it in her mouth, then discarded the lot in the trash.

Jesse considered a moment. "Never tried it from this range before, but worth a shot." Setting down his fork, he clapped his hands twice. John Wayne instantly stopped talking. Claire stood very still, listening to the silence for a moment.

"Ha! Brilliant-what else can you turn on or off by clapping?" Her brow twitched at him over her grin, but her hands kept busy with the comb being pulled through her hair.

Shrugging, Jesse dug in to finish his Thai. "Anything electric. You know those clap-on, clap-off commercials? I kinda got the idea from that."

"Innovative," she chuckled lightly and put the comb down on the dresser in front of the large wall mirror. Claire turned and twisted her hips up, sitting on the thing. "Though I'm surprised you missed that classic _that's what she said_ moment I just set up for you." She watched him wolf down his dinner. "Your noodles must be a lot better than mine were."

"I'm just not as picky as you," he teased, closing up the container. "And I'm shocked you know what _that's what she said_ is." Claire snorted, barely containing her laugh.

"Are you?" She shook her head a little, looking down at her lap for a moment before meeting his eyes again. "Exactly how naive do you think I am?" It was clear by her smile that she asked in good humor.

Grinning, Jesse slid off the bed to trash the Thai container before heading over to her. "Not too naive," he said, pressing in close, his hands resting on either side of her, flat on the dresser. "I've seen what you do in bed, after all."

Claire's smile stayed the same; pulled delicately toward one side more than the other, a little teasing, and contained a fair amount of heat in her eyes. The latter became more evident the closer Jesse got.

He was _very_ close-close enough to share the delicate heat passed between their skin. Claire tilted her chin, just _barely_, so they shared a breath, yet still weren't actually touching. "I think I might be a little out of practice," she whispered through the rakish grin.

"I can help with that," he said, leaning minisculey closer, his lips only just brushing hers. "After all, you helped me practice fighting. Fair's fair."

She caught a piece of her bottom lip in her teeth, then let it snap back into place, and lengthen her smile. A few million things passed through her mind in a blur of hot possibilities-things she had gotten so used to suppressing for the better part of a decade. Claire's indoctrinated sense of bashfulness still flushed her cheeks with warmth, but most of that blush had to do with her whisper.

"Dunno if _fair_'s the word-I was pretty rough with you."

His grin matching hers, he slid his hands close, his thumbs running along the sides of her thighs. "Then I can be rough with you, if it'd make you feel better." Claire chuckled in reply, warm and dark like the heat in her gaze as she watched Jesse's lips, then switched back up to his eyes.

"If you think you can." The challenge and invitation was clear in her voice, and punctuated with a small but strong hand curled suddenly in his shirt-she yanked him into a hard kiss.

With a muffled groan, he drove against her mouth with the same fervor. His hands slid behind to her ass, pulling her hard against him for a few moments of blissful friction. But it wasn't enough, and not nearly quick enough. His hands went to her fly, working her pants open while Claire tore open his shirt at the buttons. She drove her hands beneath the loose fabric over his shoulders-a rough sound of approval lost in their kiss.

Then the instant his fingertips dared brushed below her open zipper, Claire made good on her promise. Grinning through the kiss, her teeth bore down on Jesse's bottom lip, quick and _hard_.

With a sharp squeak, Jesse jerked his head back in surprise. Sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, he quirked an eyebrow at her. He slid a hand back, twisting in her hair and pulling down to expose the full length of her neck, where it tightened with her rasp cry of surprise. Then his mouth was on her, sucking and biting as he ground against her. He finally bit down hard where her neck and shoulders met.

"S'a good start," she hissed in through her teeth and twisted her fists in the loose sides of Jesse's shirt, pulling him into her, using the material like reins.

He moaned against her skin, nipping her collarbone. Then he hit cloth. With a small snarl, he pulled back, jerking her shirt up and over her head. He wasted no time with her bra, tossing it aside. He wanted to lay her back but the dresser was not enough.

"More room," he said before grabbing her under the ass and lifting her to the table. Pinning her down, he wasted no time, pulling a nipple between his teeth. The noise that spilled from her lips between a moan and a laugh, Claire immediately arched beneath him, adjusting to the set of keys and corner of a closed laptop they'd awkwardly landed on.

She hooked her thighs at his waist and squeezed his hard grind more into her hips. Her chin peeled back when she slid her hands into his hair, gripping, gasping toward the window behind them. With a groan, Jesse palmed her other breast.

"You like it, baby? Tell me how it feels," he said, his mouth closing on her nipple again as he gave the other a twist. Her back bowed again, sharper this time, and combined with an uneven breath that caught, jagged in her throat.

It melted into a hot little growl, and a tightened grip in his hair. "_Fuck_..." Claire caught herself, focusing in on the sharp heat at his touch and mouth. Then she flexed her legs and ground against him hard, feeling the pinch of her open zipper in the friction. "That all ya got?"

Pulling his wet mouth from her breast, he almost laughed. "Now that's just too fucking cheeky."

Grabbing her thighs, he pulled back and flipped her over, one hand on her back, pinning her to the table, while the other yanked her pants and underwear past her ass. "You ready to be nice?" he teased, giving her ass a pinch. Having the breath a little knocked out of her shortened the squeal that went muffled into her hair before Claire had a chance to toss it out of her eyes.

"I'm _always nice_," she taunted through a labored breath, and a gleam of something hot and a little dangerous in her eye, peeked over her shoulder. Claire coupled the promise by flexing her toes where they barely reached the carpet, and rolling her hips back against him.

Jesse smirked, his hand traveling the planes of her ass. "You put on a good show. But I know under it all, you're one dirty girl."

Bringing his hand back, he struck her ass sharply. Every sleek muscle stiffened, and Claire's gasp cut short in her throat, dissolving into a dark-glass chuckle and moan fused together. His words were meant to entice, and they _did_, but the went a lot deeper than Jesse probably anticipated.

_You have no idea_ pulsed through her mind, but she kept her silence, and swallowed that nagging sense of dogmatic guilt. She closed her eyes and arched against his hand, like a kitten being pet-one conscious decision to give in completely, just for a little while, and Jesse had her full, and complete attention. Desire and surrender made her voice warm and thick with air, as she moaned out the word _more_.

Swallowing his own gasp, Jesse worked open the buttons of his pants with one hand as he swatted her again with the other. "Yeah, I knew you'd like that, that you wanted to be punished," he said, yanking his pants to his knees before giving her a firmer smack. He pressed against her, leaning over to nip at her shoulder blade. "Tell me what you want me to do to you," he said with another slap.

The heat and wetness of Jesse's mouth was cooled by his breath, and sent a shiver down her spine- which bowed with his latest strike. Claire swallowed the sound in her throat and pushed against him, palms braced hard on the table. "_Everything you've wanted to do to me since we met..._"

She threw her head back, tossing her hair in pale chaos, moaning over her shoulder. "What're you _waiting for_..."

Biting back a groan at the friction, Jesse pulled back, reaching down for his wallet. He sheathed himself with practiced ease. Positioning himself at her entrance, his hands gripped her hips to keep her from moving. "This what you want, baby?" he teased. "You want me inside you? You want my cock stretching your tight pussy?"

She knew by the tone that he was intentionally goading her-that alone added to the deep stirring inside. It also flexed her fingers against the flat table and riled the heat seething just beneath the surface of her skin. Claire clenched her teeth together, hips flexing against Jesse's grip to satisfy that evolutionary need, stoked by the faint brush of his cock just out of her reach.

That was enough of a 'yes' for Jesse. He thrust forward in one smooth movement, his mouth falling open in a gasp. "Fuck, _yes_. That's my girl," he groaned.

Claire's voice rode the hard breath she sucked in. Her palms flattened beneath her, pushing up so the table dug into the top of her thighs, further deepening the curve of her spine. Arching over her, Jesse slid a hand under her, gripping her breast. "Fuck, Claire, you feel so good," he crooned, tugging her earlobe between his teeth as he thrust shallowly into her. Her hair twitched and bounced with their rhythm, caught between his fingertips at her breast. Claire pulled in a breath through her teeth as his scraped her skin.

Then a certain desire struck her hard as a truck; she knew how Jesse could feel-how _deep_ he could go. He was teasing her, stoking the burn in her belly and her veins; it pulled her voice from the back of her throat in the rasp, wanton groan: "Harder.. _deeper_."

Grinning, Jesse gave her as a slap before thrusting in deep. "Alright, baby, since you've been so bad for me."

He lost no time upping the pace, his cock nearly sliding out of her with each long thrust. His mouth explored her back, tongue and lips but teeth as well, marking her. His free hand came up to brush her hair aside, but then he got a better idea, twisting it around his fist and slowly pulling back to make her back arch. The new angle and added momentum jostled the wooden table against the wall, digging it into her thighs enough to bruise. Claire's pale eyes, hooded with desire, occasionally winced closed, and more voice added volume to her gasps.

The noises she was making nearly drove him to the edge, but he didn't want this to be all. After a couple more hard thrusts, he pulled out completely, stepping out of his pants. Then, grabbing her arm, he pulled her over and pressed her back against the door, jarring it on its hinges enough to scare the cleaning-lady just outside.

"You didn't think that's all there'd be?" he said the a grin before hooking one of her legs under the knee and pulling it high. Then he thrust back into her without a word, pulling a breathy growl from her throat. Claire chewed on her lip and leered at him hotly-an expression somewhere between a smile and a feral growl. Her chin was slightly lifted due to her hair being pinned behind her back, but that didn't stop her hands from exploring the way his muscled torso flexed and moved as he drove into her again and again, trying to fuck her raw-it only riled her up more.

Jesse watched her expressions, his eyes dark with need. "You're so fucking _hot_," he breathed against her neck. "I wanna fuck you all the time; almost can't stand sleeping with you. I get hard if you so much as twitch and I just wanna pin you down and make you _beg._" With a snarl, he bit down on her pulse. Claire's nails sank into his skin with the shocked cry that opened her mouth.

"You think it'd be that easy?" she huffed, a little spike of pain and challenge in the pleasure that darkened her voice. Her blood burned like gasoline just at the _sound_ in his words, and the bruising grip under her thigh that tightened each time he pushed into her. Her hands moved to the back of Jesse's neck, where long fingers curled hard on his short, dark hair, holding him there. "_Show me_... if you can."

Quirking an eyebrow at her, Jesse paused, his mind going a mile a minute. Well, if she wanted to beg, he'd just have to make her beg. Grabbing her wrists, he pulled them just up over her head, pinned to the door.

"Keep your hands right there," he said, a push of power behind the words.

Then he pulled from her, his tongue and teeth slowly working down her body as he got to his knees.

"Ohhh, you are _such_ a cheater..." Claire's half-grin accompanied the rasp in her voice. Though nothing physical kept the back of her wrists pushed against the flimsy hotel door, they felt oddly weighted, especially when the subconscious thought to lower them clashed with something she couldn't define. Something she knew came from Jesse's voice.

"Just playing to my strengths," he said with a grin before nipping her inner thigh. His fingers moved inward, lightly running along her wet seam and just stopping short of her clit. "How much can you take, baby?" Still breathing hard, Claire snickered under her voice.

"Think you might be surprised," she purred down at him.

Jesse grinned. Then he slid forward, his mouth circling her clit while he slid a finger into her. "Yeah?"

"_Mhm_." Claire rolled her lips together through her restrained response, closing her eyes. Spit-slick friction complimented the hot and cold sensation of his mouth and breath-her stomach tightened with the breath she tried to slow.

"Like that, baby?" he said, still so close his hot breath spread across her. He slid another finger into her, scissoring. Claire's hands closed to light fists above her head when her teeth bore down on her bottom lip, failing to keep back her answering low moan.

She hadn't realized how riled he'd gotten her-coiled tight, her thighs trembled when they flexed, pushing her hips toward him with need.

"Already eager, huh?" he teased, his tongue ghosting lightly over her clit. His fingers thrust into her, slow and even, in no hurry. "I'm not gonna let you come, though. Not 'til you beg."

Claire clamped down on her lip a little harder, trying to push the want back down. It worked for half a second, until another subtle jolt pulsed through her by the touch of his tongue. Her lips fell apart for a shaken breath that pulled her belly in tight.

"You know I'm gonna remember this," she breathed out rapidly. Her arms were burning from strain and blood flow, flexing to compensate for the way she forced the rest of her to keep still.

That got a laugh. "Yeah? You going to make me pay?" he said, pressing a kiss just above her pussy. "I look forward to seeing you try." Then he thrust a third finger in deep, pulling another sudden moan from Claire.

Her back arched from the door, lightly rattling it on the hinges as she fell back onto it, frustrated. She panted, unable to keep her hips from rolling forward again, desperate for the promise of the wet heat given by his tongue.

Keeping his rhythm steady, he leaned close to blow a hot breath on her clit. "C'mon, Claire. All you gotta do is ask."

Besides the low whine on her voice and the deepening breaths that followed Jesse's rhythm, she refused to give him an answer. Yet. But the sensations assaulted her on all fronts; the stretch and slick friction from his fingers stroked a spot deep inside that made her breaths hard-and it was unrelenting. The searing reminder in her shoulders bordered on the unpleasant, throbbing with her heightened pulse. She _ached_, and every second the ache doubled, eroding Claire's resolve and any reason for _why_ she was holding out.

And at the same time, giving fuel to the desire to just give in. To give in _to him_, as she had wanted to - _so badly_ - on the table.

Her nails dug into the center of her palms, dusted by her hair as she let her head fall back against the door, gasping toward the ceiling. "_Please_, Jess-" With another whine, she bit down on her lip. Her eyes screwed shut. "_God, please_..."

"Please what?" Jesse said, his bottom lip running along her clit. "You want me to make you come?"

She didn't care anymore-the need was too much, the desire to let go gnawing, _clawing_ at her core, easily heard in the desperate sound on her breath as he brushed her clit again.

"_Please let me come_," she huffed out on one gasp, her face twisted with need. Thighs, tense and trembling as her hips reached for him, stretching around his fingers.

With a grin, Jesse plunged his tongue inside her, twining between his fingers. His other hand shot up, squeezing hard as he ate her out. It didn't take long; just the constant repetitive lathing of his tongue and fingers between her legs brought her choppy breaths to tight, shallow gasps. Gripping at the air and pulling at the invisible tethers that held her wrists fast, Claire cried toward the cheap stucco ceiling and came shuddering against his mouth.

Jesse lapped at her eagerly and didn't slow down his ministrations. If any thing, he sped them up, bringing his hand down her body to work roughly at her clit. The muscles in Claire's thighs, hips, and lower back trembled as the waves of pleasure started to take a sharper turn.

"Jess-!" she gasped harshly, her hips tried to buck back, hyper-sensitive and _screaming_. "_Stop!_"

He froze immediately, pulling back with wide eyes. Claire nearly collapsed on herself, leaning back heavily against the door, panting, then laughing.

"_Jesus_." The crown of her head hit the door when she slumped back on it.

Laughter was a good sign, but he still hesitated. "You alright? I could free your arms if they're a problem." Claire nodded, letting her chin roll toward her chest, watching him with hooded eyes.

"I'm good-just can't feel my hands anymore."

"You can move your hands now," Jesse said, almost before the words were out of her mouth. He got to his feet, his hands going to gently massage her wrists.

The gesture was as unexpected as the sensation was pleasant. Still working to recover her normal breathing, Claire gave him a warm look-all while still supporting herself against the door. Leaning in against her, Jesse pressed a line of kisses along her jaw.

"You're so fucking sexy, y'know," he said fondly. Claire let her eyes close for the moment of gentle calm in the frenzy they swept themselves up in. His skin was hot against her, disarming and enticing all in one. She could feel him breathe, not only along her neck, but in the subtle flex of flesh and muscle pressing her into the door. Bits of things he'd said and done to her, even only in the last half hour, bounced around in her head-it was all incredibly intoxicating.

"An'_you_ drive me a little wild..." Claire answered back through a warm, lurid whisper; the smile against his cheek hinted at her deliberate understatement.

"Mm," Jesse hummed, smiling. He slid a hand between them, then between her legs, shifting his hard cock to her entrance. "You ready for a little more driving?" Claire grinned, catching her bottom lip in her teeth, making her warm chuckle hot.

"Throw me around," she both offered and teased, the bridge of her nose wrinkling with mischief.

He gave a breath of a laugh, pulling back. "Never would have fucking guessed." Then, in one swift move, he leaned down and grabbed her around the knees, throwing her over his shoulder, where she promptly swatted his ass. He took a sharp hiss of breath before his face broke out in a grin. It was hardly three steps before he plopped her down on the bed, crawling on top. He hooked her leg over his shoulder. "You're mine," he said, his face twisted in a smirk. "Say it."

Pink in the cheeks, Claire's grin remained, and even sharpened with a mix of heat and challenge. "_You're mine_," she parroted through a breath, pushed by the leverage of his weight atop her.

Jesse shook his head even as he thrust into her to the hilt. His breath caught, but he leaned in close, one hand twining in her hair and pinning it to the bed. She swallowed a gasp, but couldn't help the deeper arch in her spine. "You know that's not what I meant. Tell me what I want to hear," he said, rocking his hips.

His breath was hot on her throat, and sent a shiver that pulsed down her neck. It tightened when she inhaled shakily, then let it out with a rasp moan. "_I'm yours_."

His whole body shuddering, he nearly withdrew from her before slamming in again, the bed creaking underneath them. "_Again_," he breathed, bending over her, his teeth scraping along her collarbone.

The savage thrust jarred Claire's voice in another gasp, her hands twisted in the bedsheets. Something in his voice, not just the words themselves, but the potent undercurrent cut through her deep. "_I'm yours!_" Her chest constricting hard and undeniable as her answer; a little tighter, a little more desperate.

The words were just as potent the second time, Jesse spinning near the edge. He gripped to her shoulders, holding her in place as he drove into her again and again. "_Tell me!_" he snarled through his panting breath. That instant, Claire's eyes opened, automatically honing in on his.

Her lips softly parted, the reddened skin twitching with each snap of his hips. A rush of emotion flooded her veins, broken free from the barrier she'd carefully built around them, regarding Jesse. Before, her feelings for him were difficult to define, solid, but a little frightening at the same time. Like a thrown switch, the potency behind his passionate demand suddenly made everything painfully clear.

"_I love you, Jess_," she keened through a breath, and circled his wrists with her hands. Just saying it made her cheeks and something much closer to her core unbelievably hot.

Heat swam through every inch of him as he exploded inside her. Jesse shuddered and thrust erratically, burying his face in her neck as the intensity eased. Claire choppily ran her fingers through his hair, pressing a kiss against it between panted breaths. She let her eyes close again as the aftershocks rocked him above her, waiting a few moments so they both could recover before she whispered.

"I mean it, y'know." She smoothed his dark hair and kissed his brow.

His chest clenched, both aching and wonderful. Jesse hadn't heard those words in twenty years, not in any way that counted. Breathing out, he pressed a kiss to her neck.

"Thank you," he said quietly before pulling out of her and rolling to the side. Stripping off the condom, he stretched long to toss it in the bedside trash before pressing in close against her. Chuckling warmly under her breath, Claire curled naturally curled into him. Her hand brushed through his sweat-dampened hair.

She said nothing. His whispered words and breathless kiss were enough of a return for her, though the shock of how adamant the need to face her own feelings - and say them aloud - still vibrated in her chest like a charge.


	21. Episode 12: The Show Must Go On

Almost all the driving since Vermont had been either him or Claire, and Ben was starting to get annoyed with it. In fact, he was starting to get annoyed with a lot of things, the more he thought about them. Like how Jesse constantly complained every time they researched, or how he never seemed to take his studying seriously, or how - when they were working a job - he was always looking for the easy option rather than taking the necessary steps to get it done right. Hunters had tried and true methods, but nothing seemed to apply to _him._ Not even taking his turn driving. It was getting on his nerves. Claire didn't seem to mind though, so for her sake he kept his agitation inside and unseen on his face.

"So we're going to Kat's contact's place first?" Ben asked, wanting to be sure. They were maybe an hour outside of the city limits still, and from what Claire had gotten from the phone call earlier, Lucas didn't live in the city proper but rather on the edges of it.

"Might as well." Claire eased back a bit more against the front seat, arranging her hair out from behind her shoulder blades. She had her bare feet propped out the side of the open passenger window, crossed at the ankles. The wind on the soles of her feet was a strange sort of soothing. "See if anything's up in the city-" unlike their _last_ attempt at a vacation.

Jesse gave a light snort. "It's Vegas. Something better be up. Or else the films are all lies." Already slouched, he turned to sprawl across the backseat. His ass was going numb.

"_All films_ are lies," Claire reminded him lazily. She reached for the liter to-go cup from the 7-Eleven three hours back, only to find a disappointing mixture of flat, watered down Pepsi on the first sip. Her nose wrinkled in distaste.

"Oh I dunno, _Highway_ was pretty accurate," Ben said distractedly as he wrestled with the map, one hand holding the wheel steady.

Jesse raised his head slightly but decided it wasn't worth it. "Alright. Take your word for it." After a deep breath he said, "How much longer to Vegas?"

"'bout an hour, maybe?" Claire pushed the cup back to its holder, lolling her head toward Ben and his fight with the map. "How'bout I handle that for a while, huh?" For all his talents, multitasking while driving was not one of them.

Ben passed her the map without further prompting, glad to have one less thing to worry about. "What exit do we need to get off on?"

"Kilgore Road." Claire blanketed herself with the map, already fighting with the task of refolding it. "Lucas apparently lives just outside an old Industrial park."

"Seriously?" Jesse rolled his eyes. "Why can't you know people with big houses and pools?"

Ben clenched his jaw and kept quiet. Claire paused, then pulled her feet out of the window so she could sit up and turn around enough to look at Jesse over her shoulder.

"You in a hurry to go back to a pool?" she asked him pointedly.

Jesse went quiet a moment, a little red rising to his cheeks. "Well an unhaunted one might be nice."

"What's the exit number?" Ben asked, brushing the topic under the rug before it got any steam.

* * *

><p>The narrow townhouse didn't look any different from the others along the street, except for small things. The grass was dead or dirt; there were no curtains on the windows; no name on the mailbox out front. Jesse's face was squinched tight but he didn't say anything as they headed up the short steps to the door.<p>

When they hit the doorbell, there was a buzz from the living room, but an echoed chime from somewhere higher, and a ringing from inside the garage. That's where a sudden clatter of falling metal came from, too, before the intercom at the door crackled with static.

"Shit. Hello?"

Claire's brows arched high, sharing a look between both Ben and Jesse before turning to the intercom.

"Not interrupting, are we?" she quipped into the speaker, using the seemingly nondescript trigger phrase given to her by Kat.

There was a heavy sigh before he replied woodenly. "I got my hands full, but I could use a few more. Just a sec."

There was the sound of shifting, something scraping across cement in the garage, then the slam of a door. A few seconds later, the door opened to reveal a tanned man with buzzed hair and narrow glasses.

His startled eyes fell on Claire. "_You're_ Kat's friend?"

Ben's face immediately hardened a little at that verbal reaction. He had been expecting someone closer to Kat's age, too. Also, the fact that Lucas noticed Claire first put him on edge.

"Problem?" he prompted, arching his brows at the other man.

Eyes moving to Ben, Lucas slouched back with a slight smile. "No. I just figured with Kat, it'd be someone a bit, y'know... Kat-like. Explains our conversation a bit more at least. C'mon in," he said, stepping back and opening the door.

"More _Kat-like_?" Claire was lightly amused at the notion, a lot easier going at the moment because they were _finally_ out of the car. It'd been a long three days on the road. She hadn't missed Ben's subtle bristling, but decided against bringing any more attention to it besides the discreet brush of her fingertips along his jeans before they all stepped inside. "What'd she say about me?"

"Oh, nothing. Just, y'know, treat you well," he said with a shrug, clearing books off a saggy sofa. The room was mostly books, from overflowing shelves to stacks on the floor.

"Nice room. Very...retro," Jesse said, looking at the sofa and debating the safety of it.

Ben looked around with some interest as well, feeling a strange sense of nostalgia he couldn't quite place. He'd been somewhere like this before, and immediately he felt a pang of sadness in his chest at the reminder of his lost year back when he was still a teenager.

"Yeah, you won't find these things on Project Gutenberg," Lucas said as he settled in an armchair. "So, what do you guys need?"

"Some R&R," Claire responded tiredly after giving the couch a dubious look. She settled on its arm, after plucking up what looked like a first edition copy of the St. James Bible. Which was falling apart. Damn thing looked like it'd spent an hour in the permanent press cycle. She very carefully set it on the stack by her feet, smiling at Kat's lanky contact. "Just wanted to make sure we didn't walk into a shitstorm-our last vacation didn't go so well."

"No shit storming as far as I know. And generally I know," Lucas said with a grin. "Vacation, eh? Didn't know hunters took those."

"By all accounts, that remains true," Ben replied, smiling wryly.

"Just taking a few days to recover," she clarified to Lucas, her smile cooled slightly, but didn't disappear. Already there were thoughts in her head to make use of this _very unique_ library. There were a lot of questions that had been bouncing around her head since Maine; things a second opinion (that hadn't been pouring over things for so long) could really help with. But she bit the desire to bring it up back. Saving it for later.

"You need a place to say?" Lucas perked up slightly. "I've got another room, and the couch."

Jesse gave a bark of a laugh from where he was peering at the bookshelf. "No, we're going to a hotel."

"But thank you for the invitation," Ben added, shooting a glare at the back of Jesse's head. "We wouldn't want to impose, and there's three of us. You look like you've barely got enough space to stretch out yourself."

"I have people over all the time. But if you can afford Vegas prices, power to you," Lucas said, though he looked a little disappointed. "So you three work together? Don't think I've ever seen a hunting trio."

Claire smiled at him a little crookedly, gathering her hair into a messy twist, which she anchored with the stretched out rubber band on her wrist. No humidity or not, heat was heat, and her hair might as well have been a blanket.

"You lived here long?" she asked, pointedly ignoring his question as she casually shrugged out of the light canvass jacket and set it across her forearm.

"Yeah, quite a few years. When you gotta keep all this stuff-" he said, gesturing at the room, "-it's not easy to pick up and run off. Makes it easier for hunters, though, to know where to find me when they need some brains."

That earned a short snicker from Claire, barely enough to cover her breath. "Point taken," she said dryly. "We don't have that long, and I don't feel like looking especially _touristy_. Would you be up for showing us around?"

Ben bit his lip to keep his frown from expanding too much. He had thought they were going to talk to Kat's contact to get someone else to research for them, not play tour guide.

Lucas grinned so wide it looked like it hurt. "Yeah, sure. I mean, I don't know all the best places or anything, don't have a lot of cash to burn, but I'm happy to show you around." Claire nodded once, pressing her lips into a warm smile.

"D'you know any good poker spots?" Ben asked suddenly. "I mean, I know it's Vegas, so... yeah, but seriously. Places with no covers, et cetera."

"Yeah, sure, I know a few. Guess that's how you're paying for the hotel, huh?" Lucas added with a grin.

"No, _I'm_ paying for the hotel," Jesse said, weighing what he figured was a large, bronze paperweight in his hand. "If we had to rely on these two for cash, we'd be sleeping in the car." Claire bit back the urge to throw her jacket at him, and instead opted to wrinkle a slightly sunburned nose at the back of his head before turning back to Lucas.

"There're lots of ways, but I'm sure you've heard'em all. I'm particular to dive-pool halls, myself." She grinned, leaning back against the couch a bit more. No one suspects the little blond girl with the silver cross around her neck.

"You shoot pool?" Jesse said, turning around and raising her eyebrows at her. Which in turn got him a surprised look from Lucas. Ben tried not to roll his eyes. Granted, they hadn't had to go about doing any of the normal money-gathering techniques since Jesse joined up with them, but he figured the other man would at least have some idea how they'd managed to live without jobs as long as they had.

Claire sent a clear _what of it_ look to Jesse, arching one brow a little more than the other. "Been a while, but the math doesn't change."

"So Lucas," Ben said after a moment, hoping to thin the air and get back to why they'd came in the first place. "What services do you offer? Kat mentioned researching, but she was kinda vague."

* * *

><p>The slap of coins on fake wood lacquer stuck out from between the clack of billiard balls and the white noise around them. Claire picked her hand up from the stack of quarters that represented her claim on the next game. The way her grin leaned matched the confidence of the gesture perfectly.<p>

She was rewarded with dubious looks, raised eyebrows, and bright, drunken grins. _Perfect_.

"You plan on takin' us _both_ on, Barbie?" The closest of the two Delta-Chi's chimed in from his lean near the rack. He looked like he just stepped out of a campus-awareness safety video; perfect teeth, dimples, and a look of undeniable entitlement. Claire smiled sweetly at him.

"Two against one doesn't really seem fair," the other said. Though from the way he was eyeballing her, he obviously thought very differently of the scenario.

"Oh, I thought this was for the winner?" she sparked the innocence in her eyes-so easily faked, because she could remember the difference so well. A sheepish smile and an easily conjured blush was the icing on her cake. "Really, either way. I need the practice."

"Oh, we can help you with that," the first responded. She met his eyes with the chirp of a girlish giggle, and ran a hand through her hair. He looked like a Toby. _Tobias_. Something rich or snobbish sounding.

"If you say so. What're we playin'?"

'Toby' sent his friend a confident glance, then pushed off in order to circle around Claire's side of the table, leaning against it, right next to her. He took her cue with a gentle insistence, smiling at her as he rubbed the tip with chalk. She kept his gaze for a moment, just enough to make it count, then hid a fake smile with a sip from her beer.

"What's your real name, Barbie?" Toby's friend asked, brows arched faintly in a not-so-subtle sign of interest.

"What? You don't like 'Barbie'?" She sent the other a friendly grin around the lips of the brown bottle. One more sip later, she lowered it by the flowy peasant shirt that hung a little off one shoulder. "It's Sarah."

"You know Eight-ball, Sarah?" Toby handed back the polished stick, then toyed with the thin, tasseled string that held the neckline of her shirt together-just for a second. She coyly pushed his hand away, inwardly suppressing an urge to wack it hard with the piece of wood in her hand. Break a few knuckles. See how well that helps his game.

"I think I can handle it."

He pulled his hand back, but certainly took his time with it, then threw a look over his shoulder. "Rack'em up, Keith." Then, back to Claire. "You wanna break, sweetie?"

She pursed her lips as if she were really pondering that one, then shook her head faintly.

"Why don't you and 'Keith' show me how it's done."

Keith flashed a grin at her, slotting in a few of Claire's coins before the balls started loading into the well. Once the clacking stopped, he started piling the balls into the rack in order. He rocked the rack into place then removed it expertly, picking up his cue and twirling it loosely in his hand.

"Go for it, Greg."

Apparently he wasn't a 'Toby'. Well worn cowboy boots shuffled back a few steps from the table, Claire watched them both in their turn-just as she'd been watching them play for the last forty minutes, with Ben in the back of the room. Greg languidly rolled to the end of the table and took his aim. _Left handed. Favors his index finger. Sucks at south-banks._ The triangle of porcelain balls spread apart with impact, sinking a stripe. Claire flicked her eyes up to Keith, expecting him to take the next shot-if she really was playing two on one. _Right handed. Too much power. Too much English._ She looked back at Greg, arching her brows over a sweet smile.

"You're good." She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, then toyed with the cross around her neck, fingering it with seemingly random obsession.

"Well look who the cat dragged in."

Ben slid his hand along her shoulders, giving her a light squeeze and grinning around her shoulder before kissing her forehead.

"Heya, sis."

Keith and Greg blinked at them, then Greg smirked.

"You're her brother?" he asked, making a small effort to use tact in his tone, but it was bland. He looked at Ben like he was a speed-bump rather than a barrier. Claire patted Ben's shoulder, then gave it a squeeze, meeting Greg's eyes. Her brows arched cutely.

"_Little_ brother."

Keith grinned. "You play pool, little bro?"

Claire could feel Ben tense up a little, but he laughed airily. "A bit, but I'm not nearly as good as Sarah. I'm more of a cheerleader." Greg's minor annoyance slipped away easily as he nodded toward Keith, giving him the go-ahead for the next shot, and eased up next to the blond he knew as Sarah, opposite side as her 'brother'.

"You're that good, huh?" he purred down at her with a smile. Claire shrugged faintly, smiling back.

"Been a while." In the meantime, Keith stooped over the table and lined up his shot. Just as she predicted, he put way too much spin on it. Both balls went askew, then stilled. She bumped off the edge of the table she was leaning on, away from Greg the Mark, and Ben-the _brother_. That was still a bit hard to swallow.

"What's it been, Rick? Three years?" She rounded the table, drawing the cue languidly over the skin between her thumb and index finger, bent over the cue-ball, and purposefully missed a fairly easy shot.

"At least. Y'know how Dad feels about you going to bars." Ben's lips curved in a secretive smile. "If he were alive today, he'd probably threaten to take you over his knee." She looked up from her botched turn, straightening. A very subtle smirk on her lips went hidden behind another sip of beer when she grabbed it from the table.

Greg shared another look with his partner, then sided up to the table for his shot-but paused when the tip of a cowboy boot lightly nudged his foot. Claire grinned at him, trying to give the illusion of rebellion against what had been hinted as a 'strict upbringing'.

"Wanna make it interesting? We _are_ in Vegas, after all/i."

Greg cocked an eyebrow at her, inching a bit closer and sliding his hand along the side of the pool table. "Interesting like...?"

Claire pressed her lips together, contemplating. Her head tick-tocked side to side before she settled her grin on him. "Double-ups? Say we start at five a shot."

Greg's lips spread in a slow smile. "You sure you got that kinda money, sweetie?" Claire let her smile show a little heat.

"I'm a big girl," she said, lifting her beer for another sip. Greg leaned in a bit more.

"And your brother won't be mad, seeing me walk away with your money?"

Ben spoke up, his tone a little more crisp: "Hey, what's with all the secrets over there?" Claire looked in his direction, again casually moving her hand to her necklace. She smiled at Greg.

"S'my money; not his." She caught her bottom lip in her teeth, scraping it in her smile until the flesh snapped back. "It'll be fun."

Greg's smile lengthened. "All right then. From now, or d'ya wanna start from the top and work your way down?" She chuckled at the little innuendo, only for show. Then, gestured at the table.

"Already paid for this game anyway, so let's start here. Hey Rick," she called, lifting her brows. "Keep score?"

Ben flashed her a quick smile. "You got it."

"Five on the shot," she started, lifting her ass off the table so she could dig in her wallet. A stack of bills pinched between her fingers, waved a little so both Greg and Keith could see. "Double-up every next one." Just laying out the rules, Claire casually folded the money and pushed it into her front pocket.

The next few shots followed the plan. Claire sank one shot, but missed the next four. Ben scowled from where he was watching, his hand rubbing the back of his neck in his cue that the next few words coming out of his mouth were just part of the show.

"Hey, c'mon, Sarah, you're dropin' too much coin." Lining herself up for her next shot, Claire blew a sigh through her lips in frustration, shaking her head as she stooped low and took aim.

"I just need more practice," she said, drawing the stick back smoothly. She didn't need more practice: she just needed to bait the hook.

"Double or nothing," she paused, just before taking the shot-her eyes up to Greg, smiling to show how blissfully overconfident she was.

"C'mon, Sar, _seriously_," Ben said, his voice a bit more insistent and much louder. A few people in the bar turned their heads in their direction. "I haven't got cash enough to cover you this time."

"Hey, she's a big girl," Keith piped up. Ben turned and glared daggers into him. That look seemed to push Greg in the right direction.

"You're on," he agreed, offering his hand toward Claire with a smirk. She smiled cordially at him and straightened up to shake it, but Greg didn't let go right away. In fact, he pulled her toward him. Claire tilted her head a bit, expectant-also holding back the urge to snap his wrist. "Since you're gonna lose, and all... how'bout I buy us drinks after?"

"Hey!" Ben snapped, his voice taking on a razor edge. Greg didn't even look up, and Claire held his gaze just long enough to squeeze his hand a little harder than was necessary.

"We'll see," she forced through her smile, then slid back to take her shot; meeting Ben's eyes from under her lashes right before taking aim. No more purposeful blunders.

By the fourth shot she made in a row, Keith was looking worried.

"Uh, Greg?"

"Shut up," Greg grunted out. His eyes were narrowed as he looked over at Ben, then at Claire, before turning his eyes back down to the pool table again.

"Think I found my stride," Claire quipped sweetly, understandably in 'better spirits' than when she was two hundred in the hole. Now they were up around five hundred, and she still had six shots. The clack of the balls took that number down to four, since she sunk two solids in one semi-complex bank-shot, making that particular hole worth three hundred alone.

"Shit."

Ben struggled to keep a straight face. _God_, she was so hot right now. He wanted more than anything to take her right over the table in front of everyone.

"Twenty bucks she misses the last shot," some stranger in the crowd muttered, their voice cutting through the noise. There was a very familiar, Australian lilt to the words. "No way anyone's this lucky."

_Not 'lucky,'_ Claire thought to herself, momentarily distracted from her run of the table. Her eyes slid in the direction of that familiar voice, knowing exactly who it was, even if she couldn't see him. Shaking her head through the grin, she caught her lip in her teeth and sank the next three shots.

"Holy shit," Ben muttered. He sounded surprised, but he was also a very good actor.

"_Fuck!_" Greg snatched his beer from the table, sharing an angry look with Keith, who looked like he just got kicked in the stomach. He set his forearms on the table, lacing his fingers around the beer bottle, and eyeing Claire. She sensed the glare, and paused before taking the final shot.

"You alright?" she seemed to ask sincerely. "Last shot can just be for fun, if you're worried..." It was a gamble: a gamble worth roughly five hundred dollars-lost if the two frat boys decided to turn tail and back out. But Claire considered herself a pretty good judge of character.

Greg met her eyes, his still narrowed as he studied her. Then his lips quirked and he leaned in.

"How 'bout this?" he said, pitching his voice low. "One good kiss and we call it even."

That earned a genuine laugh from Claire, though she was careful to keep it low and warm. "That's an expensive kiss," she quipped playfully, but gently nudged him out of her personal space with a palm on his chest.

"S'the least you could do, pullin' the wool over my eyes," he said in the same quiet voice. She slowly lifted a brow at him, and the not-so-subtle tone he used. _Dangerous territory_. Her hand pushed through her hair, displacing the pale waves, especially when she scratched a little at the back of her neck, making sure Ben saw it.

"Betting's legal here," she reminded Greg sweetly. As if he didn't know that. "Y'win some, y'lose some." With that, she turned her attention back to the pool table, bracing her thigh against the edge as she lined up with the Eight Ball.

"Side pocket, off the rail," she called it loud enough for the gathered crowd around them to hear. One smooth strike later, she won the game. The crowd around them erupted with shouts of praise and clapping.

"Greg-!" Keith said in alarm.

"I said shut up," Greg snapped. He frowned in agitation, pulling out is wallet and pulling out bills. "You're paying half, man."

"Well that was fun," Claire smiled warmly, laying her cue on the table. She hopped up to sit on its edge, watching both young men prepare to part with their money. "I should play two on one more often."

Ben just barely managed to keep from snickering, heat flooding through him. _I'll drink to that,_ he thought, catching Claire's eye and winking at her.

* * *

><p>Checking his reflection in the mirror, Ben's brows furrowed. He didn't really do suits. He owned exactly two, and only for playing roles on cases. Neither of them had really been high roller poker room material, so they'd had to go "shopping."<p>

Ben didn't really do shopping, either.

He and Jesse still weren't talking, so Claire had to pick it out for him. She'd assured him that he looked good when he tried it on. She refused to let him see her try on her dress, though. Had he not been itching to get out of there as quickly as possible, he might have pouted.

"We're gonna be late to the show!" Ben called out, his hands smoothing over his hair for what could have been the twentieth time since he'd slicked it back.

"We still have a half-hour," Claire called back from the bathroom-the _huge_ bathroom, compared to most of the Super 8's or Ramada Inn's they'd been staying at for the last who-knew-how-long. She checked herself in the mirror one last time, deft fingertips tucking a wide curl that fell from the rest. It refused to cooperate, so it remained laying loose on her shoulder. Claire had mastered many things for necessity in the last decade. Doing her hair for prom wasn't one of them.

With one last swipe of cherry lip-gloss over her lips, she rolled them, then turned for the main room. Thin heels (that could easily be kicked off if she needed to run or fight something off) clicked on the bathroom tile under a drape of rich teal silk. Caught in the orange sunset through the window, it glowed with the same hue as her eyes.

"Ready?"

Ben caught the color of the dress in the mirror and turned, then saw her. The light made her hair shine like spun gold. Everything about her was made even more radiant in that moment. He felt like he couldn't breathe.

_My god._

Jesse had been slowly pacing the room, trying to pretend the air wasn't heavy between him and Ben. He couldn't help shooting a couple glances at Ben's back, though. He hadn't thought Ben could pull off sophisticated. He was wrong.

Claire's entrance into the room was like a breath of air, and Jesse paused before grinning wide, very glad he didn't have to sneak admiring glances at her.

"You look so good in that, I wanna tear it right off you," he teased, walking over and giving her neck a kiss. The moment Jesse stepped in, the spell was broken. Ben turned away and swallowed, fighting off the complicated emotions as he checked his pockets for the keys.

Claire's shoulders straightened with the chill his kiss shot down her spine. She turned a grin up at him and arched a brow. "Well let me get a few miles in it first-it cost more than the rest of my wardrobe."

"Party pooper," he said, even as he pulled back with a grin. "I'm ready, you're ready, Ben's ready." He allowed himself a look at the other man, his eyes flitting quickly down the perfectly tailored suit. "Should probably get going."

"If you guys would rather stay behind, I can just go play poker," Ben mumbled with a bit of a shrug. "Doesn't matter to me." Claire headed his way, leaning in to his shoulder on her way to the door.

"_Liar_," she whispered gently, just for him, ending the statement with a sweep of her lips on his. She pulled back, giving him a smile. "C'mon. I wanna show you off."

The faintest burn of red spread across the bridge of his nose from one cheek to the other. "You really do look beautiful, Claire."

With all the acts she'd pulled, reactions she'd faked in order to do her job, she found that particular genuine compliment hard to react to, verbally. Her chest constricted, and put real warmth behind her lengthened smile. Claire laced their fingers together, giving him a squeeze.

Jesse's stomach gave a little twist, his eyes lingering on their hands, but he pushed it down. "How the fuck long does it take to go through a door?" he said, giving Claire a playful little shove. "C'mon, before Vegas gets good without us."

* * *

><p>He'd seen movies and television shows that took place in Las Vegas poker rooms before, but nothing really could prepare Ben for what reality was like. There were <em>so many<em> people crowding the small spaces that it almost made it hard to even breathe. Getting to a table just to play was an obstacle, but once he was settled in, all the background noise faded from his mind. It was one of the only things he was genuinely good at that didn't require putting his own life or the lives of others at risk, and it showed on in his eyes. He would have smiled, but smiling wasn't exactly something a person did while playing poker.

Once the cards were dealt - two down, one up (six of spades) - Ben reached for his cards and gave them a quick glance. He just barely bit back a smirk, sliding them down on the table again and waiting until the lowest top card player placed their bet before adding in his.

"So do they flip over the two cards that are facedown, or do they stay down?" Jesse whispered close into Claire's ear. They were far enough from the table that no one was likely to think they were helping someone cheat, but he figured it was better to keep his complete lack of knowledge about the game on the down ow. Plus it meant he had an excuse to lean in close to Claire.

"They stay down until the hand is called," she whispered back, canting her head a bit toward Jesse from their vantage point above the table. Separated by a railing, the high roller's and VIP section was sunk half a floor from the rest of the casino, giving the illusion of some expensively decorated, neon lighted gladitorial arena. The cinch of her waist leaned against the railing, most of her turned into Jesse-a stance that kept leerers, players, and other stragglers well enough away from them, but her eyes were on Ben.

"He's riding the lowest bid, I bet." Her lips quirked in a half-smile, which seemed connected to one arched brow. "Not drawing attention to himself, or his hand."

"Now you're just making it sound dirty." Jesse's smile matched hers, his hand going to her hip even as he looked back down at the table. Claire leaned against him, chuckling low.

"You sure that's not just your perspective?" she teased, though the velvet whisper made it clear she was of the same mind, but she interrupted before he had a chance to respond. "I was right." Ben anted, and raised, but just barely. She tracked his gaze to the older gentleman across from him, then on reflex, looked to see if she could pick out his hand. All she could discern was that he held a spade. Claire pointed at him discreetly with a nod.

"I'll bet he folds first."

Ben tapped his chips briefly, then ran the top of his teeth along his lower lip in thought before dropping his cards down on the table, face down.

"Well that's boring," Jesse said, disappointed. Claire snorted faintly.

"Not when it's a grand per chip you're playing with," she looked up at him, smirking. Of course, he could replicate one (or a hundred) of those chips without blinking an eye-that was still difficult to wrap her head around. "Working for it makes it better."

Jesse raised an uncertain eyebrow at her. "That's generally code for 'this is going to be really long and boring.' Is this going to be really long and boring?" She sighed and shook her head, looking back down at Ben, who'd just taken the pot with a small flush.

"Is there anything you've wanted that you weren't able to just-make happen?" Her voice was lower, but genuinely inquisitive.

Thrown by the question, it was a moment before Jesse could answer. "Sure. There've been things."

"Did you get them?" Claire's eyes were on him again.

Jesse smiled. "No. Aside from this," he said, gesturing between them. "And I'm still not sure I'm not just fucking with your mind."

Claire's smile stayed warm, even if it faded a little. Uncomfortable words, but only on the surface.

"I know what your 'mind control' feels like, on the receiving end." She gave him a light nudge with her elbow, emphasizing her point with a little bedroom humor. "And _this_ isn't it. You worry over nothing."

Biting his bottom lip as his smile grew, Jesse turned his attention to the game, leaning on the railing. Claire, however, stayed on topic.

"You know how hard you would'a had to work to keep my hands over my head _without_ the hocus-pocus?" The warmth in her voice remained, even edging on a bit of heat. She had a point, and knowing Jesse-she was using sexuality to make it.

That definitely got his attention, his hip moving to rest against hers. "Yeah. Wouldn't have been able to eat you out or anything fun." She snickered under her breath, settling against him.

"Oh, you could have," she whispered, still watching Ben from their higher view, and letting her hand trail over Jesse's at her hip. "May've taken longer, but think of it this way-" Her fingertips dipped between his. "Remember the first time you pinned me? Remember what it felt like?"

He swallowed, feeling a little heat rise to his cheeks. "Well, yeah."

"Didn't want to let go, did you."

His hand twisted over hers, running up her bare arm. "No," he said, his voice low. Her smile lengthened, chasing the tingle left by the trail of his touch. Ben was watching the dealer with an intensity in his gaze that added to that heat of pride that spread across her cheeks.

"That's what I mean," she whispered, settling the back of her head against Jesse's shoulder.

Jesse frowned slightly, trying to piece the thoughts together. "...Did I go too fast? Because you can tell me."

Once again, Claire sighed endearingly. Chalk-full of inhuman abilities and everything that came with that particular curse, and even as she failed to explain an aspect of his own humanity to him, Jesse was still susceptible to the weaknesses of Men.

"Jess-" she finally tore her eyes from Ben, confident he wouldn't need them to intervene with anything soon. They pointedly made contact with Jesse's. "To _work_ for something that you want-then want it more once you _have it_; that's your _human_ side. Demons, angels...they don't have that."

The uncertainty only deepened in Jesse's eyes. "But I have you. And I want you more. That's what you're talking about?"

"You didn't always have me," she gave him a quirky smile. "Not in the beginning."

Ben suddenly let out a loud whoop from the table and threw his arms up. "Hell yeah! God_damn,_ that's a lotta money! Thank you _very_ much, Pete! I'll color up, if you don't mind."

Jesse's gaze jerked that direction, though his expression was tense. What was Claire saying? That you had to work to be human? But he hadn't ever worked at anything before.

"Hey, you made me miss the good part," he said, pinching her hip and hoping that would derail the subject. "Looks like victory drinks are in order, though. You want something?"

_Changing the subject-definitely a man._ Claire's smile was close-lipped, but she nodded after a moment. "Surprise me."

Ben collected his winnings and stood from the table, a lift to his step. His eyes scanned the nearby crowd, partly looking for another open table and partly looking for his friends. He spotted them first, then flashed a boyish grin.

Jesse grinned back, though he had a feeling Ben's smile was meant more for Claire. "Alright, surprise it'll be," he said, turning and heading for the bar.

* * *

><p>It took Lucas three trips to bring everything into the living room, spreading notes and books of various degrees of deterioration across the coffee table. He was practically bouncing with each step. From his spot leaning against the wall, Jesse was only just holding back a smirk.<p>

"You guys brought me a real stumper," he said, finally sitting down with a grin. "I mean, as far as I can tell, these could be run-of-the-mill demons just pulling off something we've never heard of before. I have some options, though."

"Options are good," Ben replied with a nod, sitting up from his slouch in the armchair and pulling his legs back in against it. "'Cuz I'm still sold on them not being run-of-the-mill grunts."

"Me too," Claire chimed in, though quietly. She folded her arms across her chest and shifted weight, leaning on a support beam nearby.

"Well, the first thing that comes to mind is an incubus. The thing I can't get over, though, is that this just isn't how incubi work," he said, arms spread wide as he leaned forward. "They generally target just one woman at a time, the nicer ones in their sleep. A whole group like this, I can't find any reference for, although the mindlessness you described kind of sounds like the long-term effect of incubi and succubi."

Ben frowned a little, his eyes drifting off to the floor. His voice was low and barely a mutter when he spoke: "Incubi and succubi don't possess people, though." Claire's eyes glazed, then sharpened a bit-but they remained on Lucas.

"Not necessarily." Lucas practically beamed as he opened the oldest tome to a yellow post-it note. "The _Malleus Malificarum_ mentions they can be beaten with exorcism. That might imply that they can possess if they want. And if the goal is pregnancy, their needing human sperm would make sense."

"Do you know of anyone who's seen one?" Claire asked, picking her words a bit carefully.

"Not personally, no. Stories I've heard were always friend of a friend type of things, y'know?" he said with a shrug.

Ben chewed his lip, making a show of considering the option even though he knew it wasn't so. "Did you have any other theories aside from incubi and succubi?"

"Well, there's something I came across, but I don't even know if they're real. Never heard of a hunter coming across them, at least. Grigori. You know the term at all?" he asked, looking between Ben and Claire. It was clear even to him that Jesse wasn't much a part of the conversation.

Claire's eyes squinted slightly, triggered by an old, _old_ Catholic School memory. "Watchers?" Ben shrugged slightly, though his eyes spanned between Claire and Lucas both.

"Yeah, those. They were angels," Lucas said, eyes on Ben. "But then they decided they wanted to get down with some human ladies. God didn't like it and they were sent packing. It's kind of like the Lucifer story but like the teen boy version." Claire felt a little sick.

Ben's jaw tightened and his smile was anything but friendly and amused. "Fantastic. So we've got a choice between horny, creepy demon-monsters and horny, creepy demon-angels. This is the best summer vacation _ever._" He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "S'there any way to kill them?"

Lucas gave a breath of a laugh. "Even references to them are few and far between. I haven't found any reference to killing them. But since they're fallen angels, best bet is to kill them like you would an angel. And good luck with that."

"They'd probably hang around demons, right? Like, really powerful ones?" Jesse piped up suddenly.

Raising an eyebrow, Lucas said, "Probably. I'm not exactly well-versed in the social structure of Hell, but neighbors are neighbors, right?"

"Sounds like they're the best fit," Claire added quietly, and without color. "Definitely enough to keep looking deeper."

Ben chewed on his lips and remained quiet, though his mind buzzed with a thousand questions. Dean would know what to do. Dean would have the answers, or at least a clue as to what to do next. He took a breath then let it out, rubbing his forehead absently with one hand before abruptly standing.

"Where's your bathroom?"

"Oh. Just down the hall first right," Lucas said, pointing. Ben nodded in thanks and headed off down the hall, his hand dipping deep into his pocket to find his cellphone as he disappeared from sight. Claire watched him go without moving her head, and finally switched her gaze back to Lucas.

"You haven't come across anything like this, ever before?"

Lucas shook his head, his expression regretful. "No. If you'll excuse the language, the whole situation's pretty fucked up. A compound of brainwashed, mutilated pregnant women? Sounds like something people would do."

Claire had to fight the sick twist of her stomach with a swallow she hoped no one in the room noticed, however reflexive it might've been. But in Lucas's dark observation came a realization of her own: It _did_ sound like cult behavior. And cults usually followed old, obscure pieces of religious lore. Obscure, like the Grigori.

"It definitely wasn't people this time," she started, pushing off the beam to approach Lucas and glance over the hurricane of notes. "You said the Grigori violated women-was there mention of offspring?"

"Yeah," he said, hesitating. "Nephilim. Depending on the text, they were giants or heroes. Kind of super human. But I really don't think this is taking us the right way. After all, if there were these kind of creatures out there, wouldn't we know about it?"

Where he stood, Jesse stopped breathing. Claire fought the very strong urge to look up at the other man. Her eyes went a little unfocused with the effort, but she corrected them after a moment, and brought them up to Lucas.

"Anything's possible," she said with confidence. "Not like things don't make it under our radar."

Lucas smiled. "Well my radar's a bit wider than yours, but yeah, I suppose it's possible."

Ben came back around the corner, his face drawn and his expression unreadable. He paused in the archway, not quite looking at anybody.

"What'd I miss?'

"Offspring of the Grigori-supposed to be super-human. Giants, or something." Claire watched Ben from Lucas's side, studiously. Ben turned his gaze to Lucas with a cocked eyebrow.

"This another legend, or is there some fact in it?"

"Legend as far as I know. Never even heard a hunter whisper a story heard from a friend of a friend of a cousin's roommate."

At that joke, Ben snickered slightly. "Yeah well, they said the same thing about angels. So while I'm not thrilled by the idea of new and exciting things to kill, I'm pretty sure we haven't all seen everything yet."

"Right then," Jesse said, straightening from the wall and pushing his hands into his pockets. His movements were stiff and his jaw was tight. "So we've got the possibility of a rumor. Cheers. Can we go back to the city, now?" Claire's look lingered on Jesse's obvious irritation for a moment longer than she anticipated. She cleared her throat, as if that'd reset her train of thought. Unfortunately it didn't work very well.

"M'starving anyway," she said flatly, a courteous smile given to Lucas. "Keep up on it for us?"

"Yeah. I'll see what more I can find," Lucas said, his gaze flicking to Jesse for just a moment. "I'll just get all the information I can since you're leaning towards the Grigori, too. Learned pretty early that it was good to trust a hunter's instinct."

"You're gonna have to tell us your intro story one of these days," Ben said with a slight arch to his brows and a half-smile. He didn't press it, though; most of the stories on how a person got involved in monsters and hunting them were never very pleasant. "I'll be sure to bring the booze when you feel up to sharing."

"Sounds like a plan," Lucas said, smiling back.

* * *

><p>All things considered, it was proving to be a good week. Las Vegas had a way of getting under anyone's skin and making them feel more alive, and getting back to playing cards again after such a long sting without it felt great. They'd left at least three tables with a decent amount of money; more than enough to pay for a few nights in a good hotel and splurge in ways they normally didn't. The only other time he'd held that much money in his hands was when he'd first taken up with Claire and sold his car. It felt good, having money that was untraceable. Lord knew, Jesse had mostly conned their way into hotels ever since the whole thing with his being tracked through his cash-creating.<p>

Ben frowned at the thought and the person tied to it. He and Jesse had barely spoken more than twenty words to each other since they left Vermont, and Ben had a pretty good idea it was only just to keep Claire from being concerned. He could tell she still was, though, by the fact that she kept watching them so intensely. Ben knew Claire was smart. Perhaps that's why she'd made a point of giving them time alone by taking a hefty amount of the money they'd made and taking a 'spa day,' whatever that meant. Ben imagined mud baths and pedicures were involved, and hoped that if she _did_ get a massage that it was by a woman. He didn't really like the idea of some Vegas guy feeling up Claire.

Not knowing what else to do, Ben had opted to go back to the hotel. Jesse hadn't come with. It had been the first time he'd been alone by himself in weeks, and he had no idea what to do. Fortunately, their hotel also came with a pool table, but after three speed rounds and then several imposed handicaps, that got boring. He found himself flipping through the hotel's event brochure book, trying to find something that catered to his interests.

Jesse came through the door looking distracted and jumped a foot when he spotted Ben. "Shit. Thought you'd be out or something," he said, pausing an awkward moment before going through the open bathroom door. Even in the vastness of their Las Vegas style hotel room, Ben heard the very distinct sound of water on porcelain. He rolled his eyes and kept looking.

_Inconsiderate ass,_ he thought bitterly.

Washing his hands after taking care of business, Jesse came out wiping them on his jeans. "You been here the whole time? You know there's a Vegas outside this room, right?"

"Oh, is that what all those lights are?" Ben snarked back. He found himself rereading the same brochure what must have been the third time. All-You-Can-Eat Buffet, something about a wave pool and pirates, every other word wasn't quite making it to his brain.

Scowling, Jesse kept his mouth shut, sprawling out on the empty bed. It wasn't like he could talk much himself. He'd just been walking around, thinking and not bothering with much of anything around him. Tonight. Tonight he'd go and hit the clubs and actually have fun; he needed to get away from the suffocation of the room.

When he didn't immediately leave, Ben found his muscles tensing. Why was he still there? "You can't've screwed _every_ hooker Vegas has to offer already," Ben muttered under his breath.

In other circumstances, Jesse would have laughed. Of course, in other circumstances, Ben would be smiling. "Gotta get some rest in before I go fuck the night shift," he said, anger just out of the way behind his words.

Ben felt heat rush through his veins at Jesse's retort, closing the event book with a snap. Maybe a walk would do him good, since Jesse appeared to have no interest in leaving. He stood roughly, moving to where he'd left his shoes and pulling them on.

Jesse's stomach gave a sharp twist. "Y'know, it's a fucking big coincidence, how every time I enter a room you seem to be right about to leave."

"That right?" Ben replied, his head pointed to the ground as he rapidly laced up the ties to the first shoe, then started on the next. He forced himself not to respond to the change in the other man's tone, or the way the profanity made his hackles rise.

His jaw working, Jesse stared at the ceiling. "If you want me to leave, tell me to fucking leave. Your passive aggressive girly shit is starting to get on my nerves."

In spite of his anger, Jesse's words pierced through him. If he dared ever say that, it was very likely Jesse would just go and stay gone. Ben didn't want him to leave; he just wanted him to stop being an asshole. _Fat chance,_ came the mental addendum.

"Y'know what? Fuck you. Maybe if you'd stop being such a goddamn prick, I'd wanna stick around."

Sitting up sharp, Jesse glared at him. "_I'm_ being a prick? You're the one who's been treating me like shit you hope someone else'll clean up. But you know what? Go do whatever you were off to do. I'll just get some other people over here, ones that're worth having around."

"Good to know how you really feel about us, man," Ben growled out, moving to the coat rack to find his jacket. He didn't really need it, it was too damn warm out, but he did need his wallet.

Jesse pushed to his feet, fists clenched at his sides. It was all too easy to put power behind his words. "Don't leave this fucking room!"

The desire to leave was still there, strong as ever, _especially_ after being shouted at; but it was as if the door itself repulsed him. His body refused to move toward it, to the point where he felt his joints literally bending away against his will. It filled him with fury.

"Stop it!" Ben yelled back. "Stop it right now! You can't make me stay here!"

"Yes I can," Jesse said with an unkind laugh. "I can do anything I want."

The fury twisted in his gut, another emotion getting caught up in with it: fear. He didn't like how easy the words came tumbling out of Jesse's mouth, or how uncaring he sounded when he said them. It was one thing to be angry, but quite another to not care. Ben turned and stormed right up to him, shoving him without a second thought.

"What the hell is wrong with you!"

Jesse tripped back, sitting hard on the bed. He glared up, refusing to be intimidated. "How's it feel, being ordered around like what you want and think aren't worth a can of shit?"

Ben gawked at him, then his fists curled up at his sides. "Seriously? That's what's blowing up your skirt? We were on a fucking _job_, Jess, and you were out of line!"

"_I_ was trying to save Claire, while you were just standing there with your thumb up your ass!" Jesse snarled, any pretense gone. "Your word isn't law and you don't always know what's right, so stop pretending because you've been doing this a couple years longer that means I'm your little employee! I'm doing this because I want to, and I'll stop because I want to, too!"

Ben sneered at him, his expression ugly and mean. "A couple years, huh? You have no fucking idea. You wouldn't last a damn day if it weren't for Claire and me. Oh wait," he cut himself off, his eyes narrowing. "My bad. Guess you can. Guess this is all just a fucking joke for you, isn't it? Something new and different until you get bored and then you'll just run off again, like everything else you do. This is my _life_, you self-important sonofabitch. This isn't just something I do for kicks. You wanna go play hero, go play in someone else's fucking sandbox."

Jesse didn't think he'd ever felt so small. It hurt just looking at Ben. "Alright," he said, pushing to his feet and heading for the door. "Hope you like this room, 'cause you'll be here a while."

He got all of three steps away before Ben grabbed him roughly at the shoulder and yanked him back. But he didn't stop there. Using the momentum, Ben threw him against the wall and pinned him there, glaring down into his face.

"The hell do you think you're goin'?" he growled out. "We're just gettin' started. Or would you rather I go back to being passive-aggressive?"

He could leave at any time. Intellectually, Jesse knew that. But with the breath knocked out of him and his head reeling from where it hit the wall, it was hard to believe it. He stared up at Ben, frozen. "I'm not afraid of you," he finally said, his jaw firm but his eyes betraying the lie.

"What, because you can heal?" Ben replied, the words biting. "Because you can just zap out of here, like a little pussy? Or pull some fucking kung-fu bullshit out of your head like it's nothing? How nice for you. I bleed, asshole. I fucking _hurt_ with _everything_ I do, and so does Claire. But she would never talk shit about me in front of a civilian on a case if she didn't agree with me. She _trusts_ me, and I trust her." Ben's grip on his wrists tightened, then twisted. "And I trusted you until you pulled that stunt. I could get over fucking around on a job, but not that. The curse was broken and I wasn't just gonna stick a fucking knife in a kid unless that was the only option I had left to stop it. So don't you _dare_ say I don't know how to do my job."

Jesse's gaze turned down for a moment, his breath catching in his throat, but he managed to pull it together. "Would she ever scold you like a fucking child in front of a civilian? 'Cause if your job is yelling out orders and expecting me to follow without question, even when lives aren't on the line, then I might as well leave now."

"No she wouldn't, because I act my damn age!" Ben snarled.

Gritting his teeth, Jesse turned his head to the side, wanting to be out of there but Ben's insult still stinging. "When that kid kills again, it's going to be on your head," he said quietly.

"So I should just kill her now?" Ben answered, his voice low as he inched in closer. They were barely centimeters apart. "That what you're sayin'? Because she has the potential to kill? So do you, Jess." He let go forcefully, taking a step back and shoving his fists in his pockets. "I don't kill people. I kill monsters, end of story. And I don't go shouting orders unless someone's outta line. You were out of line. If you had backed off, I wouldn't have shouted. What would've happened if you'd just killed that girl without knowing how to stop what she did, huh? With twenty-four hours on the clock?"

"I wasn't going to kill her before we knew how to stop her; I'm not an idiot," Jesse snapped, unconsciously rubbing his wrists. "But that girl was a fucking serial killer, and she didn't care at all. And there's no way she's ever going to be brought to justice. You can't tell me that's _right_. Just because it doesn't have fangs or black eyes doesn't mean it's not a monster. Do your hunter buddies feel the same way? What if one of them decides I'm more monster than human?"

"They'll have to go through me first," Ben said, fiercely and without pause. Even as angry as he was, that fact would never change.

"Lemme tell ya something: I have _never_ killed a damn thing unless it was asking for it. Every single hunt I've been on, if it had more than two braincells to rub together, I gave it a fucking choice. _Every single one._ That girl felt it, you jackass: she just wasn't showing it on the outside. And hell," He threw his arms out, then let them fall with muted claps at his sides. "You wanna get technical, she didn't even really fucking kill them. They killed themselves; she just gave them the means to do it. You can bet if she'd killed them with her own hands, she wouldn't have been so goddamn scared of us."

For the first time a vulnerability shone in Jesse's eyes that went beyond fear. "I didn't give them a choice," he said quietly. "I killed all those vampires without even thinking. What's that make me?"

Some of the anger in Ben's voice ebbed off. "Oh trust me, they were asking for it," Ben said gruffly. "They were gonna turn Claire into some little pet and feed me to their dogs. Pretty sure popular vote on that question would've been 'no thanks, we're happy the way we are'."

"You don't even hesitate," Jesse said, a hint of admiration in his tone. "This whole hunting thing seems murky to me but you see it clearcut. I don't think that means you're always right, though."

"Never said I was," Ben answered, the tension finally easing out of his shoulders. "I'm not perfect, man. I still fuck up sometimes." The right corner of his mouth quirked in a smile. "And feel free to rub it all up in my face if you catch me in the act." The smile faded and he tentatively reached out, putting his hand on Jesse's shoulder. "But you gotta trust me, Jess. Work is work; I'm not out to make anyone feel like shit. And I'm not your boss, but I am your teacher and your friend. I don't want you to fail."

Jesse jerked away from his touch, moving from the wall. "You don't trust me, so why should I trust you? You've been treating me as some sort of pariah the whole trip to Vegas, and I'm supposed to trust you? You force me to stay, you order me around, you get pissed when I try thinking for myself." Jesse turned away from him, his insides wound tight. "I'm just a handy hunting tool." _And a hot fuck when you feel like it._

Ben stared at him, speechless. Warning bells were clanging in his head, reminding him to pick his words very carefully.

"Jesse," he said slowly. "I don't think that. Not at all." He took another breath, then let it out slowly. "You've made it very clear that I can't make you do anything, and I don't want to. If you don't wanna stay... if you don't want to be here with us, by all means go. I won't stop you if that's what you want." Just saying the words aloud made his insides roil, but he pushed them back.

"I don't want to go," Jesse said, pursing his lips. That was true, but it wasn't all. "But I don't know if I can handle it. You and Claire, you've lived in a different world than anything I know. I don't- It's a lot to take."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Ben said quietly, running a hand through his hair all the way to the ends. It was getting too long again. He'd have to start tying it back if he didn't get it cut soon. Ben swallowed, trying to sort his thoughts. "But it's not the kind of life that allows a lot of hand-holding. I didn't _have_ a teacher, Jess. All I had was a stupid book series and my own wits, and a contact who helped polish me up a bit after a few years of close calls. So if I'm comin' off a bit hard on you, I'm sorry, but you gotta understand that I'm not doin' it as a power trip. I don't get off on ordering you around."

Jesse took a long, slow breath. "I know. I know you're just trying to help me. But it sucks. I almost wish I was going like you, without a teacher. That way my fuck-ups are my own."

Ben rolled his lips, his jaw silently working. What could he really say to that? It wouldn't matter if he tried to reassure Jesse that having a partner was better than going at it alone; it wasn't going to change how the other man felt about being the rookie. His eyes lowered as he tried to think of some way to remedy it and give some of the power back to his friend. _You can order me around all you want in the sack and I won't mind,_ he thought briefly, but pushed it down. That wouldn't really remedy anything, either.

"I do trust you," he said at last, his voice low. "And someday you'll get to a point where you won't need me anymore. At least you've got that to look forward do." _Because I'm always gonna need you._

"I don't need you now," Jesse said honestly, turning to face him. "I don't _need_ anything. But I want it. I'm here because I want to be." _Because I want you._ The thought was overwhelmingly strange. He was still pissed and confused and a little bit afraid of Ben, but that didn't dampen the want in him at all.

Ben chewed viciously at his lower lip and shifted on his feet, trying to make sense of the complicated emotions that Jesse's statement filled him with. Want could change; it could wear out and fade away. He wasn't sure he could stand the thought of that any more than not being needed by him. Again he pushed his hand through his hair, his eyes avoidant.

Jesse felt a twist inside; Ben wouldn't even look at him. "Alright. I'm sorry I ordered you to stay. You can go wherever you want," he said, pushing power behind the words even though it wasn't what he wanted.

It was as though the air around him suddenly lifted, some of the tension he hadn't realized was set in his muscles fading away. Unfortunately, it didn't change the other emotions festering in his gut, weighing him down. It felt more like a dismissal than a release, and that only hurt more.

"What's gonna happen when you don't wanna be here anymore?" he blurted, his eyes still pointed downward, even though the answer filled him with trepidation. "You just gonna go? No goodbyes, no concerns? I'll just wake up and you'll be gone, like you never even existed?"

Scowling, Jesse said, "Of course not. I wouldn't do that to you, or to Claire. How can you say you trust me and not know that?"

Ben's chest clenched, then released, and he inhaled sharply, screwing his eyes shut to force down the sudden, torrential emotions that hit him - the fragmented memories of his father and his inability to recall his lost year still left him aching with fear, loss, abandonment, betrayal and confusion. Everything inside him felt raw and ugly at the resurfacing memories, and it took monumental effort to keep from breaking down, to the point where his shoulders visibly shook.

Shock streamed through Jesse again and for a moment he could only stand frozen. Then he stepped forward, putting a gentle hand on Ben's shoulder. Ben let out a shuddering breath at the touch, his hand coming up to twist the heel into each of his eyes. He gave a forced sounding laugh, then shook his head, his eyes still pointed down.

"Yeah, guess I'm just being stupid," he said in a tight voice.

Jesse couldn't help it; he pulled Ben into a hug. "You're not stupid. But I promise, I would never leave without saying something. And I don't plan on leaving."

The hug momentarily surprised him, but once he felt the weight of Jesse's arms around him Ben pressed in further, burying his face into the other man's neck. The heat and scent of him were warm and familiar, filling him with a sense of homecoming. He took a slow breath, feeling a tightening as their closeness restricted the movement, then brushed his lips against Jesse's jawline.

"S'long as you promise," he breathed.

Jesse's breath caught at the touch of Ben's lips. After everything that had been said, Ben emphasizing that he was Jesse's teacher, he'd thought maybe everything that was between them before was over. Apparently not.

There was that shift again, and this time the weight in Ben's gut also lifted, replaced with pure anxiety. With Claire, what he felt was so much simpler. The words had come tumbling out of him as easy as breathing. With Jesse, everything was hard. They fought tooth and nail all the time, never parsing words when they were angry, always pushing to the limits, and he was starting to realize why: it was because he bottled it up. He was afraid. _Can't trust each other when you're afraid of each other,_ he told himself.

Taking another steadying breath, Ben pulled back enough to lean his forehead against Jesse's. He couldn't recall ever having been so afraid of another person in his whole life. "I love you, Jess," he said in a gritty voice.

Jesse stopped breathing. There were so many uncertainties even in his own mind of what he wanted from Ben. But this, he realized as soon as he heard the words, was the one thing he knew he wanted. He took Ben's mouth hungrily, one hand gripping to the back of his neck to keep him in place.

Heat hit him at every point of contact and Ben shivered in response, succumbing to Jesse's desperation and also his own. His own hands gripped him tightly, one twisting up in Jesse's hair while the other pressed firmly at the dip of his spine.

His hips grinding, Jesse slid his hand up the back of Ben's shirt. Their tongues twined, and it was easy for Jesse to get lost in it, to the power and certainty of Ben's touch, the same thing that frustrated him so much. He wanted more, to feel every part of it. He'd thought about it since that first night together, but asking in front of Claire unnerved him every time. Now, though...

Twisting his hand in Ben's hair, Jesse pulled back slightly, lips still brushing Ben's. "I want you to fuck me."

It felt like Ben's heart slammed against his ribcage. Heat flushed into his face at such a bold request. He'd never even done anal with a _girl_ before. _Relax, relax, it's nothing, it's not a big deal,_ he told himself. He swallowed, then nodded, nerves moving through him like lava as he took Jesse's mouth again.

Heat swam through Jesse at Ben's answer, his tongue spearing eagerly into him. On top of that was a flutter of nerves; he gone there with a couple of girls before, but he'd never been on the receiving end. He'd never really considered it until Ben.

Working open the other man's jeans, Jesse slid a hand past his underwear to grip the base of Ben's cock, giving it a long stroke. Ben immediately broke the kiss with a gasp, his hips arching into it. Apparently taking it slow was not on the agenda.

"Easy, tiger," Ben said in a breathless voice. "Don't wanna start the show too soon. I've never..." he swallowed hard. "I'm new to this."

Jesse quirked an eyebrow. "Here I thought you would have pegged a lot of girls," he said, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I'm new to this side of things, too. But I can talk you through it."

* * *

><p>Even without Ben on top of him, Jesse couldn't have moved to save his life. He felt the tingle of numbness spreading in his right leg and a twinge in his back, but they were just background noise to the bonelessness spreading through him.<p>

"You're still gonna respect me in the morning, right?" Jesse said with a lazy, half-lidded smile.

"Dunno, man. You have a mouth like a dirty whore," Ben mumbled against his collarbone, his lips twisting in a faint smirk. "I feel like I should go see a priest."

Jesse let out a breath of a laugh, though inwardly the Church was the last thing he wanted to be thinking about right then. "Well I know where your cock's been and it's a whole lot dirtier than my mouth," he teased.

"Have you heard yourself?" Ben replied, pulling back enough to look at him and grin crookedly. "Though maybe I shouldn't go to a priest. He might want some himself. Then I'd have to kill him, and that's just a showstopper."

That got a real laugh, Jesse's hand playing along the planes of Ben's shoulders. "I think you killing priests would top my dirty mouth on the 'bad' scale."

"I think I've done enough topping for the day, thank you," Ben snickered. His eyes fell closed for a moment, taking simple pleasure in the sensation of being touched, breathing slowly through it.

"Shower?"

"Mm, maybe when I have legs again," Jesse said, sinking further into the chair. "These jelly things attached to my torso aren't really good for standing."

"I'll try and save you some water," Ben said, finally easing free and pulling back, but not before kissing him. Then he sauntered through the bathroom door, leaving it wide open.

Jesse's eyes followed him, feeling hollower and hollower the farther Ben got. He'd demanded Jesse say he loved him. The scary thing was, Jesse thought it might be true. He didn't know what to do with that. The longer he stayed with Ben and Claire, the more his very being seemed to be tangled in them. He didn't think he'd ever been happier, or more afraid.

What he did know was that sitting there, he felt utterly alone.

Not really caring that he could hardly feel his legs, Jesse got to his feet and headed for the bathroom.

* * *

><p>A 'Spa Day' in Vegas was unlike any 'spa day' Claire had ever experienced-mostly in the fact that she had never <em>actually<em> experienced one in her entire life. When they arrived the other day, the hotel concierge absolutely insisted that she give it a try while they were in town, and it seemed like a safe, relaxing time to get away from the guys while they beat the tension out of each other, if need be.

Claire could thank running into Kat for that realization: that Jesse and Ben were both very affected by her constant presence-and not always positively. She hadn't known the exact cause, but there were tensions between them again, and they were holding back-for her sake. It came to the point where she had to take a step back, and hope for the best. It was more than a little nerve wracking (hence the 'spa day' decision), but she trusted them both, and her faith in them and how well she knew them both helped Claire get through the massage by Joch (the most effeminate man she'd ever met), the Swedish mud bath (which was just weird), the mani-pedi (clear polish only), and the trim & style for her hair.

Unfortunately, all that only ate up three hours. The other four, Claire had spent in a small casino, doing what she'd learned to do best-look innocent and naive, while cleaning up the gambling budgets of men of all ages.

Now, with the desert sun-set starting to marry blue sky with oranges and pinks, and after instructing Ben through text messages to bring himself and Jesse down to the circle drive in front of the hotel.

"You seriously _won_ these?" Lucas asked her, toeing up to the curb next to Claire. She'd called him for a little help with her good-luck streak in order to surprise the boys. Her grin was bright and bold beneath the reflective Aviators that sat on her slightly sunburned nose. The silver trimmed 2005 Yamaha Roadstar Warrior he'd ridden from the dealership (whose owner Claire had completely taken in) was propped by the side walk right behind its twin-which Claire was languidly sitting on.

"Viva Las Vegas," she replied, sitting back against the butter-soft leather seat and combing her fingertips through the sleek yellow pony-tail that sat on her shoulder-the stylist had straightened her hair. She caught movement in the corner of her eye, approaching them from the hotel doors. Pushing the new sunglasses up and over the swoops of escaped hair at her brow, Claire turned that bright grin over to Ben and Jesse. Still straddling her bike, her arms opened wide, like the show-girl spokes models she couldn't get away from in this town.

It hadn't been a spa day for them, but Ben felt infinitely more relaxed than he had in the past few days. He was actually smiling again, and when the warm Nevada heat hit them upon their exit from the hotel, he actually sighed from the comfort. It didn't prepare him at all for the sight of Claire on a motorcycle, with Lucas standing next to the other.

"What the hell?" he uttered in pleasant surprise.

Jesse's grin was wide. "I knew you were going in for some relaxation, but didn't expect you to snag a couple of vibrators on wheels," he teased, leaning in to give Claire a quick peck. "Where'd you pick these up?"

Her grin went a little crooked, quirking a brow-obviously quite pleased with herself. "Apparently some people didn't bring enough money to the tables." And anticipating the follow-up question, she continued: "I can only sit still in a stylist-chair for so long."

"You didn't win _me_ anything?" Lucas pipped up, snorting back his own laugh. Claire snerked at him.

"Didn't I see a garage full'a toys back at your place?"

"Always room for one more," Lucas pouted playfully at her. She chuckled.

"We'll take you out tonight-as thanks for helpin' me with these two babies."

Ben immediately tucked his hand into a fist. "Rock-paper-scissors who rides with Claire. No offense, Lucas."

Biting back a response about Ben riding people, Jesse held out a fist. "Alright. One, two, three, shoot!" He held out paper, and Ben threw rock.

_Dammit,_ he thought, then smirked a bit. "You win this round. Luke, move back, I'm drivin'."

Lucas laughed to himself, shaking his head as he settled in the 'bitch seat', and held onto the bar behind the pad. "I better be drinkin' for free tonight, Claire."

"In case you didn't notice, I _do_ have tits-I don't pay for drinks in this city. You can just have mine," she responded while bracing the bike between her thighs, and wasting no time sending a playful wink to Jesse. Her head twitched toward the seat behind her before she plopped the aviators back to her nose.

Winking back at her, Jesse hopped on, scooting in unnecessarily close. "You look so fucking sexy on this thing," he said quietly into her ear. Claire's grin was subtle, but rakishly half-turned over her shoulder.

"Don't worry-I'll teach you how to ride," she teased, feeling his words deep and loving every second of it. _Smug_ wasn't one of her usual traits, but it was hard not to feel it at that moment. Before he could respond, she slammed her boot down on the kick-start, bringing the thing beneath them to life. A few feet away, Ben joined in suite, letting out a hoot of excitement. The sound wasn't too unlike being in the middle of a hurricane. Then they were off, barreling down the road and toward the setting sun.

* * *

><p>Four days into their trip, Ben started getting antsy. He'd already started researching again, choosing to stay at the hotel on two separate awake-hour occasions while Jesse and Claire went out into the city. Of course, by the second one they were ragging him like mad - not that he was complaining, given their choice methods - so he tried to keep the researching down to late nights, and even then there had been... distractions. Lucas was supposed to be doing their researching, one of them had said. Ben couldn't quite remember who said it, given the fact that he'd had very specific hands on his body at the time.<p>

Nevertheless, he felt like he'd had his fill of rest and relaxation, and with his "piggy bank" recently re-filled and feeling more relaxed than he had in weeks, the three of them decided to pay Lucas one last visit to get info and maybe treat the guy to a night on the town. He deserved it, after all the work they'd imposed on him.

The desert dust coiled at her boots as they dropped from the Honda's footrests, and braced the still rumbling motorcycle between her legs. After prying off the full-face helmet and smoothing her hair, she glanced behind her, watching Jesse pull up behind her, followed shortly by Ben in the GTO. Having the bikes had been a blast, but they weren't practical, no matter how pretty-Claire was content to imagine the look on Lucas's face when she got around to telling him they were his to keep. Good way to end a vacation.

She killed the engine and kicked down the stand, squinting into the sunset as Lucas's footsteps greeted them from the walk.

"Y'know, if you're going for a sneak attack sometime, the full convoy probably isn't the most subtle choice," he said, walking up to Claire with a grin.

Dismounting, Jesse was careful to keep his attention to situating his helmet; they'd be rid of Lucas soon enough. The door to the GTO closed with a muted clap and then Ben slid up to Jesse's side, making sure to give him a not-so-subtle look over and a quick wink while attention wasn't on them before giving a nod of greeting to Lucas.

"Don't tell me you're scared of us already! We haven't even been here a whole week."

"Oh I'm always on my toes around hunters," Lucas teased, nodding at Claire. "Especially the pretty ones. They'll get you every time." Claire's smirk dipped deep into her cheek, but it was still pleasant. That was good enough a comment on that subject from her.

"You're right, though," she moved on, swinging her leg off the bike and snagging the keys in one smooth movement. Then next placed those keys in Lucas's palm when she went to shake it in greeting. "Good way to remember us, I think?"

Lucas's brow furrowed as he looked down at his hand, then back at her. "Seriously? You're giving it to me?" His mouth twitched in a smile before he shook his head. "No, no payment needed. It doesn't work that way."

"Well it's not like we can just take 'em with us," Ben answered, his brows arching slightly. "And we're gonna need your help in the future, man." Claire nodded, and her smile went a little lopsided.

"Use'em as bargaining chips, or somethin'."

"Toldja, I don't need payment. I got all the money I need," he said with a smile.

Glancing at the house, Jesse gave a faint snort. Ben promptly punched him lightly in the shoulder.

Raising an eyebrow at him, Lucas's smile never wavered. "It's what's on the inside that counts, man. Books, gear, and information are worth more than a McMansion. Not to mention a few lucrative patents and a few projects that'll be in every household in America in a few years. But I could use the bikes, if you really don't need them," he said, turning back to Ben and Claire. "Always good to have something more to tinker with."

"They're yours," Claire said, settling it with a warm smile, and a helmet pushed lightly into Lucas's arms before heading toward the house.

"So long as we can borrow them when we're in town," Ben added as he followed a few steps behind them.

"Well, I'll be sure to keep one of them in one piece then," Lucas said with a laugh.

Helmet and keys in hand, Jesse followed with a scowl. "Won't be long, right?" he said, just quiet enough for Ben to hear. Ben nodded rather than verbally answering, watching Lucas as he all but fluttered around Claire like a moth around a flame. It took a lot of effort to keep from frowning.

"So I did more digging up on the Nephilim, like you asked. Or rather on things that might be Nephilim. It's easier if you don't focus on the term too much," Lucas said, settling in his usual chair. "First there's the obvious possibilities: demigod legends. Hercules, Achilles, that sort of thing. Biblical legends too, like Samson or Goliath. Maybe even Jesus. Broad strokes here. Of course we can't know for certain if those are just stories or actually based on something, but they fit the idea at least and maybe can show us what we'd be looking for in the present day."

"Sounds like something you'd look through the tabloids for," Claire settled on the edge of the couch. Her hunch was confirmed by the spread of attention-grabbing headlines and articles pinned to an enormous cork board on Lucas's wall.

"Dunno about Jesus," Ben said, moreorless as an afterthought. "Theoretically he's supposed to be the son of God, not of an angel."

"So's Hercules. We can't look at the stories as verbatim; they might have taken the Grigori to be gods. Anyway, nowadays it's trickier. I found some stories." Lucas nodded at the cork board. "Three-year-old lifts car off mother, pious teen with gift of healing, that kind of thing. If they're all legit, well, we're up shit creek, because there's a lot of these suckers out there. But I doubt it."

Despite himself, Jesse walked over and started looking through some of the tabloid headlines.

"You got a list of cities for us?" Claire asked Lucas, though she watched Jesse's intrigue, or anxiety, pull him in.

Lucas gave a breath of a laugh. "Thank God I thought you might say that." Plucking a binder off the coffee table, he pulled out a dozen printed spreadsheet pages. "Town, name, and freaky power listed. Mostly in small Midwest towns. But there was something else I wanted to run by you. Ever heard of cambions?"

Ben frowned in thought, chewing his lip. The word sound vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place it off the top of his head. "More lore, I take it?"

Lucas nodded. "Half human, half demon."

There was a loud rip as Jesse turned around sharply, taking half a news article with him. "Ah, shit, sorry, I- You just caught me off-guard. I mean, that's- Really? Demons can breed with humans?" he babbled off in one breath.

Ben felt his heart jump straight up into his throat, both at Lucas's words and Jesse's immediate reaction. Luckily, he had a better poker face than his friend, but managed to look efficiently boggled by the concept despite his knowing it was already possible.

"How? Demons possess people. If that were possible, there'd be a lot more of these cambiwhatsits around, wouldn't there?" Claire opened her mouth as if to say something, but was interrupted by the buzzing on the inside of her jacket pocket. She fished out the phone and looked at the screen-_stared_ at the screen, really.

"Go on," she said finally, glancing up with a dismissive gesture, but her attention went back to her phone; her thumbs typing away a return message to the text that just arrived.

Glancing at Claire, then Jesse, it was a moment before Lucas answered Ben. "I haven't been able to find reference to the mechanics of it, but it's not supposed to be easy. Of course, it could just be a misinterpretation of the Nephilim myth, or vice versa. They're awfully similar. But yeah, human-demon babies would be like a 'roided up demon. Stronger powers, tamer weaknesses. One journal reference I found, though, said they're hidden from demons and angels. Some sort of chameleon defense. Could make them hard to track down."

Ben's brows furrowed. So nephilim and cambions were the same thing? _No, nephilim need vessels. That's the difference._ But the thing that possessed him had been a demon, hadn't it? _Angels possess too, same as demons. There isn't smoke, and the host is more willing, but it's not **that** different..._ The more he thought about it, the more unsettling it was. His eyes briefly flicked over to Claire, then Jesse, before returning to Lucas again.

"There's gotta be some differences, though," Ben said slowly. "I imagine it's like... like the difference between a werewolf and a skinwalker. Else why would there be two different terms?"

"Different cultures or people describing the same thing? The thing is, I've got actual hunter accounts of a cambion," Lucas said, briefly digging through his books before picking out a beat-up journal. "Nephilim are only legend as far as I can tell. So maybe cambion are what you're dealing with. Maybe demons got sick of only making so few, so they've gone and streamlined the process by knocking up a pile of women at once. I don't know. It'll take more time for me to find anything definite, if then."

Claire's phone buzzed, and once again, she stared at the screen for a second or two before really reacting. When she did, it was a brief glance up, but little else before she put a 'one second' finger in the air, got off the couch, and lifted the phone to her ear.

"Jacob."

_"Now there's music to my ears if I've ever heard it,"_ came the decidedly Southern drawl on the other end. Ben turned his gaze to Claire, confusion registering in his expression along with a slight frown. Claire wasn't looking at him, though her nose had scrunched up a little. She also cleared her throat.

"So what's the occasion?"

If there was anything that could tear Jesse's eyes away from the journal, it was hearing Claire address a man. He felt a little sick as it was; he really hoped there weren't more surprises on the way.

_"A guy can't call every once in a while?"_ Jacob asked, his voice steeped in charm. Claire's scoff bordered on a dry chuckle.

"Every nine or ten months? I was onto your pattern years ago."

Jacob chuckled on the other end of the line. _"Still sharp as nails."_ He paused, and there was an obvious change in his tone when he spoke again. _"You anywhere near Louisiana?"_

"Not even close. Why?"

_"Can you be?"_

"Depends," there was a note of cautious concern in her voice. "I would've thought you'd be sick of the phrase 'I'm not your booty-call.' by now..."

Ben immediately tensed up and scowled, his eyes narrowing on the phone in Claire's hand. Jesse's eyes widened, his stomach giving an uncomfortable twist. Lucas just laughed into his hand.

_"You know I wouldn't call if I had any other option, darlin'."_ Claire's lips pressed together, but she gave a small nod of agreement, even though Jacob couldn't see it.

"Always a gentleman," she started through a quiet sigh. "What's going down in Louisiana?"

_"Bewitched object I'm havin' trouble findin'. It's gettin' rather grim. There've been five missing children this week alone."_ The blood washed away from Claire's face, and she looked wide-eyed at Ben and Jesse. The scowl faded from Ben's face at Claire's look, replaced with concern.

"What town?" Claire breathed into the phone, and rubbed her brow with one hand.

_"Chackbay,"_ he answered, sounding relieved. _"What d'you think your ETA'll be?"_

"A day, at least-maybe two." Claire dropped her hand and looked at Lucas, the board, and finally the expectant faces of Jesse and Ben. "We're on the other side of the country."

_"Redline it if you can. I'll call you if things change before you get here."_ He paused, his voice apologetic and sincere. _"Thank you, Claire. Really."_ She nodded against the phone, swaying a little on her feet.

"We'll see you when we get there." With that, she hung up.

"I'm guessing we're off to Louisiana?" Jesse said, his tone casual but his face tense. Ben just stared, a frown creasing his face. Claire wet her lips and looked at both of them in their turn, but eventually rested her eyes on Ben.

"Five kids missing already."

All it took were those four words, and Ben's expression completely shifted. He was on his feet in one smooth motion, turning to smile politely at Lucas.

"Hate to hunt and run, but you know how it is. We'll keep in touch?"

"Yeah, no apology needed," Lucas said quickly, holding his hands up. "You do what you gotta do, and let me know if you need help. In fact..." He hesitated a moment before saying, "I've got something you might be able to use. I know you gotta get your things together, but maybe Claire and Jesse can do that? It'll be real quick."

"We'll take care of it," Claire answered easily, already packing their things with a pointed look to Jesse. They headed out to the car. Ben felt his muscles tense up automatically, but he kept his face neutral. He had a feeling this wasn't just a moment where Lucas was passing a quick book to him or something for him to read on the road; he was calling Ben out. It took a moment for him to school his body into a relaxed pose while still maintaining the ability to defend himself if necessary.

"What's up?"

Lucas gave a breath of a laugh. "Swear to God, you can never get anything past hunters. Good thing Jesse's not a hunter." While the smile didn't quite leave his mouth, his eyes were sober. "You know something's off about him, right? I'm not talking about the bad manners or the newb-ness either; I've seen all kinds of hunters, both mean and green, and that's not what's off here. That kid's acting nervous. Scared, even."

The tenseness was back in Ben's shoulders, but he managed only to frown in response, then give Lucas a slightly disapproving look. "He's not just green, Luke. Pretty sure if you looked up green in the dictionary, there would be a see-also attached with his name on it." It was a complete lie, but Ben was more than willing to stretch the truth in order to suspend Lucas's disbelief. "He hasn't been taking the work well. He's not even sure he can handle it. Being scared is kind of the default here."

Cocking his head to the side, Lucas frowned back. Then he shrugged. "Alright, if you're sure that's all it is. Just, you and Claire be careful. Even a well-meaning newbie can get people killed if he's running scared. Now come on out to the garage, I got something for you." He led the way, Ben falling into an easy step at his side.

Ben appreciated the fact that Lucas was so invested in them already, there was no denying that. He liked the man, and he had a mind like a bear trap; the fact that he worried about their well-being when he barely knew him said a lot about his integrity. _Gonna have to send a thank-you box of bullets Kat's way,_ he mused, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip as he ducked through the garage door after Lucas.

It was clear right away why Lucas kept his car in the driveway. The whole place was lined with shelves. In the middle were two tables covered in papers and gears and oil cans, as well as some large metal apparatus that didn't look like much of anything. The shelves, though, were meticulous, and Lucas was only five steps from the door when he snatched up what looked like a roll of white duct tape.

He held it out to Ben with a grin. "Salt-tape."

Ben blinked at him, then looked down at it before grinning like a kid opening a Christmas present. "Get the fuck out."

Lucas laughed. "Don't look too happy yet. I've been working on this stuff for over a year, and it's tricky getting the right blend so the salt content is high enough to trap the baddies but low enough it doesn't fuck with the integrity of the tape. This is the latest version and I haven't had a chance to test it, but if you want to give it a go..."

"Hell, if it means the lines won't break, I'm all about it," Ben answered in a rush, making the universal grabby hands gesture. He already had an idea on how to test it, even if it was slightly cruel to Jesse: protecting his laptop from intruders.

"Thanks for all your help, man. You're our hero."

Lucas's smile turned a little sheepish. "Well hell, if it gets me a motorcycle, I guess I'll take it."


	22. Extended Scene: The Things I'd Do To You

Twisting his hand in Ben's hair, Jesse pulled back slightly, lips still brushing Ben's. "I want you to fuck me."

It felt like Ben's heart slammed against his ribcage. Heat flushed into his face at such a bold request. He'd never even done anal with a _girl_ before. _Relax, relax, it's nothing, it's not a big deal,_ he told himself. He swallowed, then nodded, nerves moving through him like lava as he took Jesse's mouth again.

Heat swam through Jesse at Ben's answer, his tongue spearing eagerly into him. On top of that was a flutter of nerves; he gone there with a couple of girls before, but he'd never been on the receiving end. He'd never really considered it until Ben.

Working open the other man's jeans, Jesse slid a hand past his underwear to grip the base of Ben's cock, giving it a long stroke. Ben immediately broke the kiss with a gasp, his hips arching into it. Apparently taking it slow was not on the agenda.

"Easy, tiger," Ben said in a breathless voice. "Don't wanna start the show too soon. I've never..." he swallowed hard. "I'm new to this."

Jesse quirked an eyebrow. "Here I thought you would have pegged a lot of girls," he said, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I'm new to this side of things, too. But I can talk you through it."

Ben felt a blush burn its way across the bridge of his nose. To take the edge off, he slid his hand down the back of Jesse's jeans, past the waistband of his underwear as well to grip the curve of his ass. "Good. I like it when you talk," he said against his ear, pressing a little harder into Jesse's hand in spite of his earlier words.

Giving a shiver, Jesse pressed his hips back into Ben's hand. Giving Ben a last stroke, Jesse pulled back a few steps, his eyes on Ben's as he tugged off his t-shirt. Ben pulled his lower lip between his teeth, smiling slightly around it as he followed suit and continued a step farther. Toeing off his shoes, he pushed his pants and boxers down as far as they would go before stepping out of them, all the while keeping his eyes on Jesse.

Following his lead, Jesse felt a fresh wave of nerves and desire as his eyes fell on Ben's erection. Lightly stroking his own, his gaze met Ben's. "Where do you want me?"

Ben felt his mouth go dry at the question. The bed was an obvious choice, and only a few feet behind them, but all the furniture in their suite felt amazing. He was especially fond of the large Maxwell chair facing the view from their fifteenth-floor bay windows. _Maybe more of a blowjob chair than a fucking chair, though,_ he thought flippantly. Although bending him over it didn't sound like such a horrible idea, given the carpet's high thread count. _God, I wish I could just live in this place forever._ His eyes drifted downward for a moment, following the lines of Jesse's chest and torso, his tongue swiping out to wet his lower lip.

"Everywhere," Ben answered in a gravelly tone. He swallowed, then tried again. "But let's start over by the Maxwell."

A low groan bubbling up from the back of his throat, Jesse gave himself another firm tug before walking over and pressing against the back of the chair. Widening his stance, he leaned forward slightly before looking back at Ben. "Like this?"

All the thoughts streaming through Ben's mind were instantly wiped away in that moment. All he could do was stare, filled with need, Jesse laying himself out to him like a feast. _No wait,_ he thought distantly, his brows furrowing up. _I can't just... there's ways to this, isn't there?_ He bit his lip and pumped his cock loosely in his hand, quickly scanning around the room for something to use as a lubricant before his eyes fell on the still-open bathroom door.

"Come 'round and sit," Ben said in a hushed voice, his free hand coming up to run down the length of Jesse's back. "I'll be right back."

Shivering at the touch, Jesse nonetheless felt whispers of uncertainty creeping into his head. He straightened, turning and leaning against the chair instead of sitting, biting his lip as he watched the bathroom. He blushed with relief when Ben came right back out, with a bottle of Claire's lotion in hand.

"Looks like you got rule one down well enough," he said.

Ben laughed quietly, a little ripple of embarrassment rushing through him before he settled on his knees in front of Jesse.

"Wouldn't be the first time I borrowed some in a pinch," he admitted in a low voice. Though truthfully, it hadn't been the only reason he'd used it; memories of Claire's soft skin and the delicate scent filled his mind, adding an edge of yearning unrelated to the current situation.

However, rather than pump some of the lotion onto his cock, he coated his fingers instead, crawling forward a bit once the bottle was on the floor. Circling his unoccupied hand around Jesse's cock, he pumped it slowly.

"Thought maybe you'd like this more," he prefaced, then ran the flat of his tongue in a swirl over the head of Jesse's cock as his fingertips stroked up the cleft of his ass from back to front, pausing to circle the puckered hole.

"_Fuck_," Jesse gasped, his hands going back to grip the chair. His toes curled against the floor as he consciously relaxed his ass. "Yeah. That's perfect."

It was strange, feeling proud in moments like these. Ben wasn't sure he'd ever get over the sensation, but it was a good one nonetheless, and he moved with much more confidence once he knew what he was doing. The next part, however, filled him with a little more nervousness. Sliding the head of Jesse's cock past his lips, he very carefully eased in the first finger. In his mind, he tried to cross the act with something more familiar - like the first time he'd been with Kim. Kim had been a virgin, whereas Amie - his first girl - had already had a few goes. Kim had writhed with it once he'd opened her up and she got used to his touch. Ben lifted his eyes up to Jesse's, watching for the reaction.

His breath hitching, Jesse's mouth fell open. It was...strange. Not in a bad way, and a lot smoother than he'd expected, but utterly unfamiliar. He let his breath out as he looked down at Ben, his hips rolling ever so faintly. "Yeah. More."

God, he looked so incredibly hot. Ben felt his own cock twitch with longing as he slowly started to suck him off, pressing his finger in as far as it would go before curving it upward and pulling back. He managed three thrusts before adding in a second, his head dipping low before he withdrew for a fuller breath, his focus returning to the tip again. Jesse was tight; so much tighter than he was expecting, and it almost worried him.

Jesse gasped, biting down on his bottom lip. Now he was feeling the stretch. _Relax, relax, relax_, he coached himself. He focused on the double sensation, his head swimming. "You're fucking amazing. I can't wait to feel your cock inside me," he breathed, his hips thrusting forward to Ben's mouth, then back against his hand.

Ben groaned in response, the resulting rush of need almost unbearable. Every word Jesse said was pretty, even when it wasn't, and Ben moved his free hand down to clutch his own cock and squeeze the head. His fingers scissored deep within him as he pulled back and thrust in again, a little harder and angled, trying to find that hidden spot he'd heard so much about.

"Ben!" Jesse hissed, arching over him and filling Ben with a brief sense of panic. Had he done something wrong? "Oh fuck, this is-" Jesse felt his heart pulsing in his ears, almost to the rhythm of Ben's thrusts. His eyes ached to close, but he couldn't look away from Ben's mouth on him.

_Definitely not wrong,_ Ben thought in response, a smile reflecting in his eyes as he circled his tongue along the tip of Jesse's cock before dragging it down the length again, achingly slow. _Maybe I should get him off first. Nice and relaxed that way. I like this._ His hand left his cock and settled on Jesse's knee, then slid inward to knead his inner thigh.

His leg quivering at the touch, Jesse couldn't stop his hips from rocking even if he wanted to. It all felt too good to take. "I love your dirty mouth," he breathed, twisting a hand in Ben's hair. Then he gave a sharp cry, Ben's fingers twisting just right. "Yeah, yeah! You're so fucking amazing; I wanna come so bad!"

Ben let Jesse's cock slip free from his lips as his hand came up to pump him, twisting up to the head before moving down again. "Do it, then," Ben cajoled, his voice a little rusty from the lack of use. "Come for me, Jess."

As close to the edge as he was, that was all it took. Thrusting wildly, Jesse gave a sharp cry as he came, clenching down on Ben's fingers. Ben just barely had time to circle his lips around Jesse's cock again, the now-familiar salt-tang blooming on the back of his tongue as he swallowed instinctively. The sounds Jesse made sent heat flaring in his gut. He wanted him so badly it physically hurt to think about it.

When the shudders finally subsided Ben let Jesse's cock slip free from his lips again, almost smirking with self-satisfaction. He loved looking at Jesse all blissed out, and knowing that it was because of him only made him feel better. Tugging his fingers free, he took up the bottle of lotion again and poured some liberally into his hand, slicking up his straining erection as he bit his lower lip.

"Does it matter which way?" he asked in a low voice.

Jesse hummed, running his hands over and over through Ben's hair. "Whichever way you want," he said, looking through hooded eyes. Ben nodded in response, eyes falling closed as the comforting sensation rolled through his scalp and down through his body. He turned his lips in to kiss the inside of Jesse's wrist.

"Bed for this, I think," he said after a moment. Then his brows knit. "Or... well, maybe just sit in the chair, not on it."

His mouth quirking up in a smirk, Jesse languidly made his way around the chair before sliding in. He sat at a slouch, watching for Ben to follow before lifting his feet onto the seat, his calves folded against his thighs.

Ben settled in front of him, looking down, his hand slowly jerking his cock more as a way to take the edge off than with any real intention. Standing up would be too high, given the height of the chair. He would have to crouch a bit.

Biting his lip, he slid a hand into the space between Jesse's back and the cushions of the chair, easing him to the edge. Ben wanted to watch what this did. He wanted to get it right.

Breathing became phenomenally harder as he put his feet beneath him, guiding himself in. There was a moment of resistance where he felt all the air burn in his lungs, then he was pressing in and being swallowed alive by heat. His whole body shuddered.

"_Fuck,_" he moaned, the vowel low and long as he inched deeper and deeper into Jesse. It was the tightest, most intense warmth he'd ever experienced, and his hands balled into fists on the armrest.

Jesse's hands scrambled over Ben's shoulders, digging into his back. His head fell back, his spine arching as Ben slid past the barrier and inside. "_Ben_, oh Ben, you're so fucking huge," he groaned. He breathed deeper, the slight burning edge to the feeling easing off. "_More._"

"_Fuck!_" Ben groaned again, louder and crisper that time, his palms going flat before he moved them, one following the dip of Jesse's spine to lift, the other twisting in the short hair at the nape of his neck as his mouth crashed into his. The resistance finally gone, Ben thrust in to the hilt and held there, despite the screaming urges to fuck into Jesse as hard and as fast as he could.

Groaning deep into his mouth, Jesse desperately returned the kiss. His head was spinning with heat and pleasure and _oh god_, Ben was so deep. Finally pulling back, he panted between breaths, "More."

Ben nipped at Jesse's lower lip and held it, running his tongue along the smooth skin before he let go. "You want more?" he replied, his voice low and tinged with lust and amusement. "I'll give you more." Then his hips were moving, pulling back slow and then snapping forward hard, nearly jarring them apart each time.

"You like that?" he asked in the same lust-rough voice, the words broken apart by each thrust.

Jesse's breath caught with every thrust. He ran a hand up into Ben's hair, holding on as though for his life. "Yes!" he keened. "I-_oh!_ Your cock- _yes, fill me up!_"

Fire coiling in his belly, Ben kissed him again, open and messily, then nipped at his jaw. The hand cradling Jesse's neck moved, sliding down his muscled arm before dropping down in the small space between them, finding Jesse's cock hard again and leaking. He wrapped his hand around it and twisted up to the head, pulling back enough to watch Jesse's face, his eyes inky dark with hunger.

"Say it," he breathed, his thrusts evening out, steady and fast in time with his jerking hand. "Say it, Jess. I wanna hear you say it. _Say it say it say it please-_"

Jesse's head fell back, his neck arched. Ben's hand felt unbelievable as he drove into him. He hardly registered Ben's words, and he had no idea what he was asking. Really, he didn't much care, though he tried to find something for him. "Yes, yes, yes," he hissed. "_Fuck me_, feels so good!"

Ben suddenly stopped moving altogether, though his body shook in protest. Every instinct screeched not to stop, to keep going, _so close so close so close_, but he refused. He bore down hard, inches from Jesse's face.

"Jess," he said, his tone low and rumbling in his chest. "Please. I-" he swallowed around the crack in his voice, moving the hand out from beneath Jesse's back and up to his face, his fingertips settling in the hair near his ear while his thumb rested on the apple of his cheek. "I need to hear it. Even if... even if you don't mean it, I need to hear it. Please."

_He stopped, he stopped, why did he stop?_ His chest heaving with each breath, Jesse's face was etched with desperation. "I- Please, _anything_," he panted, looking straight into Ben's eyes. "I'll say anything you tell me."

Ben struggled to breathe around the sudden pain in his chest. He leaned in and kissed him, achingly tender, rocking into him once, then again, keeping intentionally slow as he found pace again. _Please don't just let this be another mindless fuck,_ he thought, the thumb of the hand still circled around Jesse's cock stroking over the tip. _Please let it mean something to you. I need more than just this, please see that, please._

Jesse moaned against his mouth, languidly returning the kiss even as he tried to shift his hips into his hand. After everything, this was just way too slow. His hand came up, twisting in Ben's hair and holding him close as he thrust his tongue into his mouth.

The silent demand pierced through the fog in Ben's brain, and he reciprocated in kind. His hand drifted back to support Jesse's neck again as he rocked up and hard, breaking the kiss with a shuddering gasp.

"Do you love me?" he asked against Jesse's mouth.

His mouth falling open, Jesse's eyes were glazed for a moment, not sure he heard right. "What?" he breathed, his nails scratching along Ben's back. "You think I let just anyone fuck my ass?"

Had it been any other situation, Ben might have laughed. As it was, he only buried his face in Jesse's neck to hide the blush that exploded on his face.

"Not exactly the answer I was looking for," he muffled, feeling more than a little stupid. Some of the euphoria burned away.

He'd done something wrong; he wasn't giving Ben what he wanted. And worse, that meant Ben wasn't giving him what he wanted. "Don't be an idiot," Jesse said, tugging slightly on Ben's hair so he could turn to see him. "I need you more than fucking air. Of course I love you. More than. You own me."

Just like that, the heat flushed back through him again. In the closeness, there was no denying the sheer honesty Ben saw in Jesse's eyes.

"Own you, huh?" he murmured, wishing for a moment that there was a bit more length to Jesse's hair so he could twist it in his grip. Instead he moved his hand back to where his left heel was firmly pressed into the edge of the chair, lifting it so it settled around his hips. His other hand squeezed Jesse's cock, then pumped it in time with his thrust.

With a groan, Jesse bit his bottom lip, his foot shifting higher along Ben's back. "I'm yours," he said, his back rolling with the uncontrollable desire to thrust. Leaving Ben, his hands gripped the top of the chair cushion just behind his head.

Ben thrust into him harder, his pace suddenly doubling up, the tenderness replaced with raw possessiveness. He pulled his hand away from him, slicking up his palm with the flat of his tongue, then took hold again and twisted up on the next few jerks.

"Damn right," he growled out. His free hand slid back up beneath Jesse's back again, lifting him into each thrust.

His grip tightening, Jesse gave a high gasp with every thrust. Every muscle in him wound tighter and tighter, his eyesight blurring from the overwhelming pleasure. "Ben. _Ben_," he groaned. "Yeah, yeah, take me. Fuck, so _good_, I can't- Ride it, ride it! _Fuck_, Ben!" He keened as he came hard, his body jerking where he was pinned.

"_Oh fuck-!_" Ben cried, his body shuddering hard as the tightness suddenly became overwhelming. Two more thrusts and he was gone, his eyes nearly rolling in his head as white-hot pleasure hit him like a punch, then shook him like a rag doll. His whole body sagged forward when the last of it drained away, shivers of aftershock racing up his spine.

Even without Ben on top of him, Jesse couldn't have moved to save his life. He felt the tingle of numbness spreading in his right leg and a twinge in his back, but they were just background noise to the bonelessness spreading through him.

"You're still gonna respect me in the morning, right?" Jesse said with a lazy, half-lidded smile.

"Dunno, man. You have a mouth like a dirty whore," Ben mumbled against his collarbone, his lips twisting in a faint smirk. "I feel like I should go see a priest."

Jesse let out a breath of a laugh, though inwardly the Church was the last thing he wanted to be thinking about right then. "Well I know where your cock's been and it's a whole lot dirtier than my mouth," he teased.

"Have you heard yourself?" Ben replied, pulling back enough to look at him and grin crookedly. "Though maybe I shouldn't go to a priest. He might want some himself. Then I'd have to kill him, and that's just a showstopper."

That got a real laugh, Jesse's hand playing along the planes of Ben's shoulders. "I think you killing priests would top my dirty mouth on the 'bad' scale."

"I think I've done enough topping for the day, thank you," Ben snickered. His eyes fell closed for a moment, taking simple pleasure in the sensation of being touched, breathing slowly through it.

"Shower?"

"Mm, maybe when I have legs again," Jesse said, sinking further into the chair. "These jelly things attached to my torso aren't really good for standing."

"I'll try and save you some water," Ben said, finally easing free and pulling back, but not before kissing him. Then he sauntered through the bathroom door, leaving it wide open.

Jesse's eyes followed him, feeling hollower and hollower the farther Ben got. He'd demanded Jesse say he loved him. The scary thing was, Jesse thought it might be true. He didn't know what to do with that. The longer he stayed with Ben and Claire, the more his very being seemed to be tangled in them. He didn't think he'd ever been happier, or more afraid.

What he did know was that sitting there, he felt utterly alone.

Not really caring that he could hardly feel his legs, Jesse got to his feet and headed for the bathroom.


	23. Episode 13: Paid the Piper

It'd been a day and a half since they left Vegas, but the landscape hadn't really changed until they reached the Texas/Louisiana border. Desert gave way to thicker and thicker trees, and a humidity that wouldn't quit. The GTO, unfortunately, wasn't built for air conditioning, and Claire was reminded of a few times she'd been below the Bible Belt on the edge of an oppressive summer. Also looming like the hot bayou air was the prospect of what was probably going to be a tense job, alongside someone she hadn't seen in years-and wasn't sure how she would react to actually seeing him.

Needless to say, they were all a bit uncomfortable.

Claire pulled the car into the first gas station after the 'Welcome to Chackbay' sign, where she and Jacob had agreed to meet via text after they crossed into the county. She killed the engine and nudged the squeaking door open, scuffing gravel and dust with her boots. Almost immediately, she became aware of the thick sheen of sweat that made her tank top and jeans cling uncomfortably. She swiped at her brow with the back of her hand, and swept the place with a sharp gaze.

Ben had kept mostly silent about their destination the entire drive, even at the hotel they'd stopped at, but it was obvious from his body language and the frown framing his face that he was unhappy. He knew Claire hadn't meant to put him on edge with the 'booty call' comment back in Vegas, but it certainly had done the trick. He hadn't even met the guy yet, but Ben knew he wasn't going to like Jacob one bit. He could be the best damn hunter alive for all he cared; he'd been more-than-friends with Claire at least once in her past. Exes were never good news. He had half a mind to stay in the car, but it was too damn hot so he slid out and let it fall shut behind him, his eyes landing on Claire.

Grumbling, Jesse crawled over the bench seat and out Claire's door. His shirt stuck uncomfortably to him. "Alright, the rest of this trip into the sauna, Ben gets to sit in back like the pet dog. I couldn't feel the breeze worth shit back there."

"I'll see about getting an A/C installed," Ben muttered, running the back of his hand across his forehead before foregoing the hell of a sticky shirt altogether by peeling it off.

Never one to ignore a bad idea, Jesse stripped his off as well, then threw it at Ben's face. Ben made a disgruntled noise and yanked it off, balling it up to throw it back.

"Jerk."

Jesse just caught the shirt with a grin.

Claire just watched them from the corner of her eye, a little envious of the double standard obviously in place. Her thin cotton tank felt like a layer of seran wrap in this heat, and her hair didn't exactly help. Still quiet on the subject, she bumped the door shut with her hip and drove her hands through her hair, tying it up off her neck in a messy mass of pale waves. Some of the more damp ones clung to any skin they could find.

There was the distant rumble of a car approaching from down the road, followed by the appearance of a forest green Cadillac. It shimmered in the heat wave until it broke past the mirage and came to park a few feet away. There was a brief pause as the engine went silent, then a man slid out from the driver's side, shutting the door behind him with a muted slam. He stood about 5'11", his eyes hidden behind sunglasses and his hair slicked back. In spite of the hot weather, he wore a black sleeveless shirt, an obvious farmer's tan marking the upper half of his well-defined biceps. The moment he was at his full height, he grinned at them, showing perfect white teeth.

He looked like a James Dean wannabe. Ben tried not to sneer at him.

"Howdy," the man drawled. "Glad y'could make it. How was the drive?"

Claire had been following the driver ever since the Caddy came into view, but she knew it was him at the first show of that rakish grin. Her lips tugged into a small, barely noticeable smirk. With so many things going through her mind at the moment, the fact that this was one of the most awkward situations she'd encountered in a _long_ while should not have been most prominent.

But it definitely was.

"Uneventful," she responded, leaning her hip against the door of the GTO. Jacob's smile only widened.

"Your hair's gotten longer," he commented, all but oblivious to the other two men who stood mere inches away from Claire.

Stepping forward despite being ignored, Jesse held out his hand. "G'day; Jesse Turner. Good to meet you."

Jacob turned his head a little, his brows coming up over the edge of his glasses as he smiled and took Jesse's hand. His palm was surprisingly cool.

"Jacob Deveraux," the other man answered. With each word, his accent was more obvious. Ben, on the other hand, didn't offer up his hand.

"Ben Braeden."

Being that Jacob's eyes weren't visible, the only hint that he looked between Ben and Claire was the slight shift of his chin. He smiled again.

"Any friend'a Claire's is a friend'a mine."

Though her eyes stayed on the black shades on Jacob's face, Claire's expression remained neutral; a trick she'd learned long before entering the life. She prized it among her best tools of survival, or at least sanity. She could also picture his eyes with an ease that surprised even her.

"Got a good place in town we should look for? Preferably with A/C."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered with a more reserved smile. "Follow me?"

"We will," she started, catching another line of perspiration that was on its way down her throat. "What's goin' on down here, first."

Jacob shook his head, his smile turning on its head. "Not in open air. There's ears on the wind." He tossed his head. "C'mon." Claire pressed her lips together, rolling them. Jacob had a point, and he _did_ know the situation a lot better than they did. But she just couldn't help trying to get information that she should really be concentrating on.

She didn't say anything further, just continued to watch Jacob, giving him a nod before prying the car door open. Claire leaned on it with a bent forearm, waiting for either Jesse or Ben to volunteer for the back. She wasn't being usurped as driver-not right then. Ben slid in behind her wordlessly, his hand trailing along the small of her back in passing as he climbed into the back seat.

Jesse gladly hopped up into the front seat, lounging back and waiting until Claire closed the door. "Now who's being rude?" he said, shooting a grin back at Ben.

Ben scoffed at him, but didn't answer. If anything, a faint flush spread across the bridge of his nose.

* * *

><p>It was a relatively short drive to the neighboring town of Thibodaux, and once they passed the city sign Jacob took a left off the main road and directly into a parking lot. A brightly colored sign informed them that it was the Economy Inn, which was supposedly "Less Like A Hotel, More Like a Home."<p>

They'd passed three other hotels along the way, most of which had pools. This one, however, did not.

Jacob pulled into a parking spot in front of what could only be his personal room before the brake lights went out, signaling his killing the engine.

Jesse was out of the car first. He didn't care what the place looked like by this point; he was promised air conditioning. He was in the room on Jacob's heels and froze in place as the cold air washed over him. Eyes closed in bliss, he spread his sweaty arms wide. Claire nearly ran into his back.

"Oh if this room was a person, I'd root it good," Jess practically groaned.

"Classy. Now share." Claire planted her palm on his lower back and put her weight into getting him to stumble on forward.

"I'm gonna go get us checked in," Ben said from behind her, holding his hand out expectantly for the keys. Jacob pulled his sunglasses off and slid the left bar down the front of his shirt, leaving them to dangle there as he arched his eyebrows at the other man over Claire's shoulder. Claire was watching Ben as well, the slightly baffled glint in her eye the only change from a neutral expression.

Still, she handed him the keys with a hand swung back from her hip. She hoped the look over her shoulder conveyed '_don't be long_' clear enough. He pocketed them easily and, without any warning, leaned in to give her a quick kiss.

"I'll be quick." Then he was gone.

Jesse watched it all with a half raised eyebrow before setting down on one of the beds. "So, how long have you and Claire known each other?" he asked with a smile. Claire looked at the floor without realizing it, inwardly groaning at Jesse's sudden need for chit-chat.

"Several years," she answered before Jacob had a chance, setting one ass-cheek on the hotel table.

Jacob's smile was slow like honey as he went to the mini-fridge, pulled out three beers, and started opening them. "You had to've been what? Eighteen or nineteen? Pretty little thing. Never in mah life wouldda guessed her to wanna hunt 'cuz she could, but she did, and not too badly at that."

Jesse's smile widened fondly, looking at Claire. "Yeah? How'd you end up meeting?"

Gray eyes turned to Claire as Jacob's own smile lengthened, his brows arching slightly as he came around the kitchenette to pass them their beers. "You tell it better'n me, darlin'. G'head." Despite the slightly sick feeling that flipped her stomach, Claire managed to roll her eyes and force her mortification down with a long swig of the cold brew.

_Jesse, if you don't find another topic, I swear to God..._ "I wasn't ready for a vampire-let's leave it at that."

"Aw, but it's a good story!" Jacob replied with a laugh. He switched the beer from one hand to the other before taking a gulp from it. "To be fair, he was a nasty sonuvabitch. Tryin'a get himself a pretty li'l harem goin', I think, but he had a type and he got a bit too hungry to stop 'imself." His smile leaned to the left. "Can't say his type was so bad."

It was easy to laugh at the idea when it wasn't actually happening. "Shit, Claire, you and vampires. They really like keeping you around."

Claire shook her head, concentrated on her beer, and decided to not look at either of them. "Actually, when he found the dead man's blood before I had a chance to use it, he planned on _feeding me_ to that 'pretty li'l harem.'" She had the scars too-not that she'd divulged the origin of them. They all had scars.

"Luckily, she wasn't the only one huntin' the vamp at the time," Jacob added, his smile turning a bit softer as his eyes lingered on Claire. "But she beat'im up purdy good before I showed. I can't take all the credit. Took us two more days t'get 'im, though. He got away before I could gank 'im."

Although it was long over, Jesse's insides gave a twinge and he reached out to lightly touch her wrist. "She is a tough one," he said with a smile. "Saved my ass the first time we met."

The touch automatically deserved a look up from Claire. She smiled back at him, genuinely, but also obviously a little distracted.

"That sounds like a story," Jacob commented, leaning back against the counter as he sipped his beer.

"Naw, pretty standard. Killer ghosts in a haunted wood," Jesse said with a slightly forced grin. "Ben and Claire rode in to save the day. The usual."

Jacob turned his eyes to Claire, his brows arching a little before he spoke. "So you and... Ben? Have been huntin' a while t'gether?"

"A while, yeah." Claire punctuated her sentence by taking down about half of what remained in her beer bottle. Jacob looked between the two of them, taking another swig from his beer before speaking again.

"Lemme guess... strong, silent type?"

Claire's eyes snapped up to Jacob, one brow just barely arched over the other. She took a moment to wonder just what he intended to get out of that comment, but figured she better answer before Jesse had a chance to further the conversation. Her lips quirked into one dimple.

"Yeah. _I am_."

Jesse gave a laugh and reined in the desire to kiss her. "Yeah, she's our own Woman With No Name, alright. Always handy for swooping in and saving the day. But I guess you know that, since you called."

Jacob picked up on the cue easily. Finishing off his beer, he moved around to get two more from the fridge.

"Somethin' like that," he said after a moment. When he straightened up and resettled against the counter, some of the good humor in him was gone.

"I do have one witness. A babysitter. She said she heard music 'round one in the mornin', an' when she went to check on the two kids, they were gone."

The door re-opened on the tail-end of Jacob's words and Ben returned, shutting it behind him. Claire met his eyes briefly before looking back to Jacob. Oddly enough, the seriousness that invaded the atmosphere was strangely welcome. The topic before was being given more importance than she wanted shown.

"The others disappear over-night too?" Jacob nodded.

"I did a bit'a research. Might sound crazy, though. Can't say I've ever heard'a something like this."

"It's been a crazy year," Ben said solemnly. Jacob's brows furrowed at the statement, but he went ahead anyway.

"I'm thinkin' a pied piper."

"Wait. The rat guy?" Jesse said, not sure if he was supposed to laugh. "You mean from the fairytale?"

"Except change rats out with kidlets," Jacob replied. Ben frowned.

"So there's been bodies found in the marshes or something?"

Jacob shook his head in answer. "That's where I'm stumped. S'why I figured it was an enchanted object at the very least." Claire's face tightened, her thumb drawing lines through the condensation on her beer bottle.

"Go on..."

"Well, if it were a witch, she wouldn't be needin' music to get her victims, would she?" Jacob said, twisting the cap off the second beer and holding it out by the neck for her. She accepted it, but the thing rested on her thigh. Claire was scouring her memory for anything like this, and coming up blank.

"How old'er the kids?"

"Rangin' 'bout six to ten so far," came Jacob's answer.

"And nothing like this anywhere else in the recent past," she went on with the obvious, or else Jacob would've brought something like that up.

Any kind of friendly camaraderie had dropped from the room. Jesse's stomach twisted and he looked between Ben and Claire, trying to read the situation. It wasn't connected to their demon, right? Taking kids wouldn't make sense. Right?

"I did a search 'round the area and nothin' came up," Jacob said after a moment. "But I haven't been here very long. S'why I called. Two heads'n all that." His lips quirked in a small smile. "Or four, as it happens."

Claire pressed her lips together, letting them roll slowly back into place before she nodded. "We'll start lookin'." At least a slow night in for research meant a cool-off in the air conditioning.

"Everything's been put in the room," Ben said, his eyes on Claire.

"Right. So kids disappearing after music. Possible vengeful rat catcher involved," Jesse said, taking a long pull from his beer. "I guess it's a start."

"I'll catch up witcha inna while then, yeah?" Jacob replied, his eyes spanning between the three of them. Ben nodded firmly.

"What else did you get out of the interviews with the families? Is there any connection between them?"

Jacob frowned a little. "None that I've seen so far."

"Can we get copies of what you _do_ have so far?" Ben pressed, a hint of hardness to his tone. Jacob's expression didn't change, but a flash of irritation reflected in his eyes.

"How 'bout y'all get some food in ya and we get t'gether after, eh?" he suggested. "Reckon you haven't had much'uva break drivin' since ya left Nevada. I'll gather what I've got-"

"And in the meantime, it'll get darker and if what you're sayin' is right, whatever this thing is attacks at night," Ben snapped. "So why don't we get our shit sorted now so we can get to work?"

Jesse's head snapped around towards Ben his eyebrows raised. Sure Ben had a temper, but usually he only got this snippy with, well, Jesse. Claire was also watching the exchange with a sense of surprise, but she was more bristling than stunned. This was only going to get worse.

"How 'bout one of us go _get_ food while we get things straightened here?" Her tone made it clear that it wasn't a question. Ben just barely managed to keep from scowling.

"We can order delivery," he said, his words clipped.

"Alright," Jesse said, a bit slowly as he stood. "Gimme your phone, I'll find a pizza place to order from, and you can have a seat and finish my beer while Jacob goes over everything."

It was one thing to be told off by Claire, but to hear it from Jesse too was enough to finally rein Ben in. He settled in the chair nearest his friend and produced his phone reluctantly, taking the beer once it was offered. Jacob looked between the three of them, his jaw working silently for a moment before he finally started to speak.

"So, the babysitter..."

* * *

><p>The fill-in did next to nothing, in all truth. Jacob really hadn't come to much of a conclusion, which deeply annoyed Ben, but it proved how much he needed their help. There had been a connection in that all the children apparently attended the same elementary school, but that didn't amount to much seeing as there was really only one elementary school that the Chackbay residentials shuttled to. They'd reached a dead-end, and the fact that night was already falling only made Ben feel more frustrated and useless. He sat with his laptop in his lap in a chair nearby the window, his face alight from the monitor as he worked.<p>

"Alright-the Preston kid's mom works for the Ma and Pop insurance place down on Main, and the Fairchild girl's parents own the little grocery store. Two of us can hit them up tomorrow while the other two check out the school..." Claire lifted up on her toes to pin a picture of a mop-headed little boy on the web-map they'd tacked to the hotel wall. Jesse slid up behind her, helping push the pin in that extra bit. Claire smirked at him over her shoulder, but not unkindly.

Jesse returned the smile, but only briefly. It was probably the most depressing map they'd ever put up, full of smiling, missing little faces. "Think they're...okay?" He couldn't quite bring himself to say _alive_.

"Hope so," she replied in the same tone; uncertain and cautious about putting her hopes into anything they didn't know. She turned to face them both, hooking her thumbs in her pockets-her shoulders deflated. "We gotta do this quick and clean." As if they didn't know. For some reason, Claire felt like saying it might settle something unpleasant in her stomach.

"I'll work with Jacob," Ben said without looking up. He'd been rereading the same two lines over and over the moment Claire mentioned separating into twos. Just the idea of either of them working with the mysterious man three doors down from them left a sour taste in his mouth.

Jesse looked over, eyes wide. He hadn't expected that. "It's alright, mate. I can do it," he said, figuring Ben thought he was sacrificing himself. Claire just looked at him. Ben shook his head.

"It's fine," he said, a hint of gruffness to his voice that contradicted his words. "I'm just tired. It was a long drive."

Claire wasn't dense, and she wasn't in denial. There was enough tension between Ben and Jacob to throw paint on, probably more than she could even sense between herself and the Cajun hunter. But it wasn't something she wanted to discuss; it'd only get in the way. For whatever reason - and the reasons were fairly evident - he wasn't comfortable letting her or Jesse off with Jacob. It wasn't worth fighting over-not with the little information and time that they had.

She sighed quietly as she nodded, and turned toward their info-spread once again. "The state police are already on this-won't be long 'til the Feds show up... but we got nothin' tonight." A pause. She tucked more escaped hair behind her ears and headed at a slow pace for the door. "I'll get us some sodas and more towels."

Ben tensed up a little and immediately looked up, but he bit back the words that nearly made it past his lips. It wasn't Claire he didn't trust. Instead he simply nodded, offering up a smile he didn't quite feel. "Dr. Pepper if they have it. Or rootbeer. Either's fine."

"Anything's fine with me," Jesse said before sprawling out on the bed. As the door clicked quietly shut, he rolled over, looking at Ben. "You have to turn that thing off sometime. C'mon, plenty of room on the bed this time."

Ben, however, had already turned his eyes back to the screen again, trying to pick up where he'd left off in the newspaper article he'd been reading.

"Maybe inna bit," he mumbled, his whole face screwing up in concentration and his shoulders hunched over.

His chin sagging into the covers, Jesse watched Ben thoughtfully. "You sure you wanna be alone with Jacob?"

The younger man's expression twisted from focused to scowling, and his eyes finally rose to look at him. "Why?"

It was awkward shrugging while splayed out in a bed, but Jesse gave it a go anyway. "You didn't seem to get along with him very well."

Ben's eyes promptly dropped down to the screen again. "Yeah well, it's not a perfect world. Sometimes y'gotta work with people y'don't like."

Jesse fell silent, his eyes traveling across Ben's face and then down to the laptop. The taped design of a devil's trap glinted slightly in the light. Ben had explained the salt-tape to him, and it made sense, for regular hunters anyway. Jesse didn't ask aloud, though, just how worried Ben was about ghosts and demons getting into his laptop. He knew that wasn't it. The symbol was directed at him, even if he didn't know what he'd done to warrant it.

Rolling off the bed, he headed for the bathroom.

* * *

><p>For all the self-administered conditioning, strength training, and poise Claire had, retrieving three 20oz bottles of soda from the bottom of a vending machine while making sure three large bathroom towels didn't fall to the dirt in the process required a few attempts. It was just barely past sundown, and it was <em>still<em> hot, and windless; the sort of atmosphere that clung like film, especially after walking out of the air conditioning. The added effort she put in bending over to get the drinks just seemed to exacerbate things. The tension back in the room didn't help either.

"Need a hand, darlin'?" came a familiar voice over her shoulder.

_Oh good._ "I got it, thanks." Claire forced the small flood of extra heat rising to her cheeks by telling herself it was just the angle, which she righted quickly. One arm pinned the three folded towels to her hip and held a soda, the other carried the remaining drinks, leaving nothing to take care of the hair sticking to her cheeks when she stood up and faced him. It would be her luck, that he'd catch her at that _exact_ moment of awkwardness.

Jacob was leaning back against the side of the building, his lips curved in a relaxed smile and his head tilted just a bit to the side. A cigarette dangled between his thumb and forefinger.

"Momma needed a break from the boys, I take it?" he asked, his words light to prove he was only teasing her a little. Claire scoffed lightly, but took the teasing in stride. Still, she didn't want to even chance a retort, knowing what conversational doors that may open.

So, Claire changed the subject. "Figured we'd tackle the school and two sets of parents tomorrow in pairs-sound good to you?"

Jacob nodded, bringing the cigarette up for a quick drag. He held it for three counts before releasing it in a slow, steady stream.

"Reckon yer not drivin' shotgun with me then." Claire tilted her head, studying his expression-which hadn't changed. Her own settled into something that resembled fatigue, but only slightly. It seemed the tension wasn't going to be completely one sided.

"Probably not, no."

Jacob shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly, then smiled some. "Y'worried or somethin'? You've got that look about'cha."

Claire shifted her weight from one foot to the other, sighing. Her eyes were cast somewhere in the darkening parking lot, or the black treeline behind it. "You knew me for three days, many years ago-what makes you think you know my 'looks'." Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't right. She sighed again, and met his eyes, almost apologetic. "It's been a long year."

Jacob pushed off the wall and took a step closer, then rested his free hand on her forearm. All the charm and suave was gone, replaced instead by quiet concern.

"If this is too much trouble, I can get back on th'wire t'morrow and see if Watt is freed up yet. I don't wanna make yer life any harder'n it needs t'be, Claire."

She pinched her lips together, pausing for another breath. The concern felt genuine, and in soothed her nerves a little to know he wouldn't be pushing lines she didn't want to define. Finally, she shook her head. "Too many of us, we'll all be bumping heads. And none of us would leave before this is finished anyway."

"Sure 'nuff," he answered, half-smiling. His hand lifted from her arm to slip his fingertips beneath her chin, lifting it slightly so he had a better look into her eyes. For the briefest moment his well-guarded emotions resurfaced - sympathy, kindness, longing, adoration - and then they faded, his fingers moving up to brush her hair behind her ear. "You've grown up strong and tall, darlin'. I'm glad yer here."

Despite the sincere words of praise, Claire couldn't help but feel a small twist of unease-especially combined with the subtle intimacy of touch and that look in his eyes. She cleared her throat and leaned away from it, her gaze automatically shot toward her and the boys' hotel room door. "_Ugh_, don't say that-makes you sound like an uncle or something, and that's just-wrong. In a lot of ways." She covered the discomfort with a little humor, and added quickly. "Also, let's avoid the subject all together."

That was enough to have his brows arching slightly. "So they don't know 'bout you'n me?"

* * *

><p>Ben blinked at the screen as he reread the line again, feeling a little burst of adrenaline.<p>

"Think I might've found something," he called out. Jesse had left the door open again. "This article mentions an older brother to Leah Fairchild. His name's Nathan."

"He wasn't taken with her? Too old?" Jesse called back, washing his hands.

"Apparently he was at a friend's house," Ben answered. He quickly put the computer on the side table and stood, going over to their work board and writing the name on the sticky note just beneath Leah's picture.

"It's a start, I guess." Jesse came back in the room, not looking terribly enthused. "Don't know how much we can get out of him, since he wasn't there."

Ben met his look somewhat grimly. "I wasn't thinking an interview, exactly."

Jesse's expression sagged the moment it hit him. "You want to use him as bait?"

Alarm immediately rose in Ben's eyes. "No! No, god, no," he said rapidly. His jaw worked slightly. "Hell, never. Kids don't deserve that kinda crap put on 'em. But the way this normally goes, s'not often a sibling gets away unscathed."

"So we just wait for the piper to come for him? Which is basically using him as bait and just not telling him about it," Jesse said, his scowl deepening.

Ben's face fell. When he put it that way, it did sound pretty close to the same thing. "You wanna see 'bout getting 'em to take a vacation outta town for a week or two?"

"I don't know. It's the best lead we got," Jesse said, though he didn't look happy about it. "What do you think we should do?"

"Dunno 'bout you, but I'm gonna go sit outside their house for a bit." He said it while getting his jacket and sliding it on before pausing to take it off again. It was too damn warm, even that late.

Pursing his lips, Jesse finally said, "I could sit inside. Make sure we see exactly what happens."

Ben shook his head quickly, looking around for the keys to the GTO. "Stay with Claire. I don't..." He paused, then chewed his lip before bringing his eyes to meet Jesse's. "I don't want her here by herself."

"Well, I don't want you there by yourself," Jesse said stubbornly. Ben frowned for a moment, looking over his shoulder and out through the window before he looked back at Jesse again. His lips twitched.

"Oh yeah?"

Jesse felt a blush spread to his cheeks but he refused to look away. "We don't know what this thing is, we don't know what it can do, and we don't know how to stop it. Going in alone is a shit-headed move."

"It's goin' after kids, Jess," Ben said, his voice softening a little. "Not adults. I'll be fine. I'm a lot more concerned about Steve McQueen out there tryin' to seduce Claire than I am of some witch or stregha tryin' to steal my soul."

Rolling his eyes at him, Jesse said, "Claire can kick his ass if he tries anything. But we have no idea what this thing is, and it might make an exception for you."

Ben's lips turned up in the left corner and for the first time since Vegas, he smiled. "You're worried about me."

Jesse folded his arms to keep from smacking or shaking Ben to get that smirk off his face. "Yeah, I care if you go get yourself killed. So?"

Ben shrugged his shoulders slightly, then took a step closer so they were nearly nose to nose. "Uh-huh," he murmured, deliberately leaving an inch of space between their lips and not crossing it. "I'll be back in the mornin'. And I'll be safe, promise."

Feeling a sharp twinge in his chest, Jesse stepped back. It was bad enough that Ben could get to him so easy; he wasn't about to let him know it. "Alright. Just call every couple hours. So we know nothing's eaten your head off yet."

"Will do," Ben answered, fighting off the disappointment with a white lie. If he called every few hours, they'd never sleep, and not sleeping would make hunting rather difficult. Grabbing the keys from where he spotted them on the table across from the chair where Claire's jacket rested, he slid out the door and closed it behind him.

* * *

><p>Claire just looked at Jacob for a moment, caught somewhere between guilty and surprised. "Well to be fair, it didn't exactly come up before, no."<p>

"So you're not sleepin' with Grumpy?" Jacob asked, brows arching a little higher. Claire's jaw set a little and her eyes wandered off. This was going about as well as she anticipated.

"We're dropping the subject now," she said, already making her way down the walk toward the room. It was as good a solution as anything. Giving up certain details about who she cared about was off limits-Jacob should know that, and he should know _why_. On top of it, she certainly wasn't going to say _I'm sleeping with both of them-happy?_

Jacob gave a little shrug in answer, smiling again. "Yes, ma'am," he said after a moment.

Claire half-turned, still walking away, and putting absolutely no thought into the fact that she wasn't going to be able to open the door without her hands. "And for _good_, right?"

Taking the silent cue, Jacob followed after her, hardly batting an eyelash at the intrusion into her personal space. "Yes, ma'am," he murmured again, his hand reaching around her to twist the doorknob. Claire eyed him a little like a rattlesnake as he leaned in, but stood her ground out of a mix of pride and instinct.

The door opened smoothly before he pulled back. "Seeya in the mornin, darlin'," he said in a slow, warm voice.

"Thank you," she replied just this side of flatly, and tracked his movement away from the door before she went in, as if she were making sure he was actually leaving. When he was gone, she huffed a breath through her nose and made to toss the two sodas to Jesse and Ben, but saw only Jesse. Confusion and instinctive alarm washed over her face.

"Where is he?"

* * *

><p>Claire's phone was pressed to her ear a little harder than necessary as she paced the small walk-way of their hotel room, listening to the hollow ring on the other end. She was <em>livid<em>-or at least, told herself she was livid. In truth, the little El Nino brewing in her mind was a combination of anger, hurt, and legitimate worry, but it was a lot easier to concentrate on the anger part, especially how her evening seemed to be going.

"_Pick the hell up_," she grumbled through her teeth and made a sharp turn by the door, heading back toward the counter for the fifth time. Watching her, Jesse decided he really didn't want to sit awkwardly on the bed for this conversation. Without a word, he slid into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

On the fourth ring Ben finally answered, his voice even: "What's up?"

"What exactly do you think you're doing?" she answered quick, and a bit sharper than anticipated. Claire regretted it, but moved on.

"Jesse didn't tell you?" Ben asked, glad she wasn't in front of him to see him wince at her tone.

Claire screwed her eyes shut for a brief moment, biting back another reaction before it got away from her. After a hard breath, she continued: "_Don't_ play dumb with me-you know _exactly_ what I mean."

Ben kept his eyes focused on the house in front of him, the window lightly cracked so he could listen out, but his eyes were glazing over and his attention focused on the voice on the other end of the line.

"You did the last leg of driving and I needed some air," he said at last.

"So _take a walk_," she snapped back, the emotion starting to underheat her tone. "What part of leaving - _without telling me_ - to pull a blind stake-out, with us having _no way to get to you_ sounded like a good fuckin' idea, Ben?"

Ben could feel his hackles rising, but swallowed back the defensiveness before it got too much fuel. She was swearing. Claire didn't swear unless she was pissed. He didn't want to press his luck spitting venom back at her. "I've still got guns and knives, Claire. I know how to hunt, y'know."

"It's not your ability to hunt that I'm talking about," Claire started back, too riled to care about sugar coating or compromising. Not this time. "You're part of a _team_, _more_ than that-and you left us here with our thumbs up our asses. _On. Purpose._" Her hand went into her hair as she turned again, then circled to the counter, leaning against it. "How the hell would you react if _I_ pulled this shit on _you_?"

For a moment, Ben couldn't say anything. His jaw worked silently and he frowned at his reflection in the glass. Apparently she and Jesse had a good long talk about how he wasn't being a team player, given the fact that much of what she was saying sounded familiar. He took a breath, then let it out, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"It's kinda hard to listen out for whatever this is when you're yellin' at me, Claire."

The blatant disregard for how his actions effected the rest of them, _especially_ after the less-than-subtle cock-strutting and animosity earlier in the day, had Claire seeing red. It boiled over in a flash-burn, and the line went dead after she chucked it across the room.

The triple-beep of the line being cut off had Ben pulling the phone away to look at it briefly. They were both pissed at him, though he wasn't completely certain as to why Jesse was other than the fact that he might've pulled the sensei card on him again. A voice in his head sounding too much like his mother's told him to call her back, to explain himself, but another one spoke over top of it: _Pull it together. You gotta be strong. You're not thinkin' straight as it is. Concentrate on the job._

Claire looked at the phone where it fell on the floor, after being ricocheted off the wall and then the bed. Her heart was pounding, still reeling from the boil-over, but it was cooling off quick. She was still angry, but the emotion was slowly fading to reveal the true reasons for the lash-out with a painful clarity.

Rolling her lips hard, as if it'd ease the knots tied in her shoulders, she scooped up the phone and looked at the screen. A sigh fogged it slightly before she pressed the redial, and held it to her ear.

He'd only managed to calm himself down before the phone rang again. He found himself glaring at it but took a hard breath and let it out, answering again wordlessly.

Claire heard the click that signaled a pick-up, and didn't even wait for him to get the first words in. Even though her tone was a lot less heavy than it had been, it still cracked with emotion tucked under her breath.

"Y'know you're a real pain in my ass sometimes..." It wasn't meant to jab. In a way, it was an apology without the actual words. Ben took a breath and let it out, clenching his jaw and releasing it.

"I might've heard somewhere." On the other end, Claire closed her eyes and sank down on the edge of the bed, her head in her hand.

"Why didn't you wait? Why didn't you _tell me_?" she sighed, losing the last of her short-lived fury for everything else that was bothering her about this situation: her and Jesse's uselessness, and also what she viewed as a minor betrayal of trust.

Ben's voice hardened a little. "It's a job, Claire. It comes at night, and it takes kids. If it's a stregha, it'll come after the sibling. Hell, whatever it is, it probably likes siblings anyway. It took those two boys. I-" he swallowed, then shook his head even though she couldn't see him. "I couldn't just sit there. And you know how Jesse gets on stake-outs, and you took the last leg like I said. I just wanna do something useful, okay?"

Claire took most of the time he was talking to make sure she didn't say something she would regret. All his reasons were valid and perfectly honest, but she knew it wasn't the whole story.

"First-please don't patronize me right now-I _know_ it's a job." It was a plea, as well as a reminder that she was on the same exact level as him. She breathed a little deeper before going on. "Secondly, I was gone for less than _five minutes_. The sun wasn't even down. If you had just-" Claire swallowed, feeling a ghost pain in her jaw. "I know you wanna get ahead of this thing, but that's no reason for purposely leaving me in the wind. Did you think I wouldn't agree with you? Is that why you didn't tell me?"

Ben pulled his hand through his hair and tried to push down his temper. "Of course not."

There was another pause. Claire was racking her brain, and coming up with nothing-nothing that made sense to her. When she spoke again, her voice had fallen quiet, but it was even. "Seriously-what would you have done, or thought, if I had done this?" She paused again, but continued before he got a chance to answer, leading with a sigh. "Don't be surprised if I send Jesse to be with you. At least he doesn't need the car."

Ben bristled sharply at her words. "Don't. It's just eight hours. I'll be fine. You two sleep it off and I'll seeya soon, but don't you send him after me."

The sudden edge to his voice wasn't exactly subtle. Claire's brows furrowed in alarm and confusion. "Why are you so against us helping you on this? All we'll be doing here is research, and you know how much he _loves that_."

"God, you're not gonna let it go, are you?" he huffed. Ben shook his head into the darkness, hating the corner she'd backed him into. "Y'don't think I haven't noticed how quick you were to jump the moment he called? Or how he's been looking at you? I'm not blind, Claire."

So it _was_ a trust issue. Claire's brows shot up into her hair, stunned for a moment. Jacob honestly hadn't even entered her mind through this entire conversation-and he turned out to be the root of the whole problem. The little bubble of anger tried to work its way back into her throat, but she swallowed it hard and chose her words very carefully.

"Are you telling me, that you want Jesse to stay behind because you think I'm going to do something with Jacob?"

"No, I'm telling you I want Jesse to stay behind because I think he's gonna do something with you," Ben clarified. "Big difference. I trust you plenty; it's him I don't trust."

Claire's head suddenly hurt. She pinched the bridge of her nose with two fingers and forced a long sigh. "_Christ_, Ben, I knew the guy for three days several years ago. I don't even like being in the same room with him, but he's not gonna pull a shit-move like that."

Her words did little to comfort him. If anything, they just made him more anxious. "Like you said. You knew him for three days. How do you know?" He didn't let her answer however, and immediately jumped ahead. "I need to be listening for this piper or music or something. You're more than welcome to verbally kick me in the balls some more when I get home."

Something in her gut twisted, making her feel a little sick. Claire cleared her throat, again pushing her defensiveness and hurt out with a breath. "_Stop_. Patronizing me. Fine, you don't trust him-trust me to be able to take care of myself. And so help me, if you don't check in every couple hours, _both_ of us are coming to find you."

Ben ground his teeth angrily to keep from snapping at her, having half a mind to throw the damn phone out the window. It would be about as much of a resolution as denying her the fragment of control she demanded. For all that he was furious at both her and Jesse for making him feel like his fears were unjustified, he wouldn't deny Claire anything.

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "But if you don't answer after the first ring the first time I call, I'm not calling again. Doing check-ins during a goddamn stake-out is bullshit, but if it makes you happy, whatever you say."

Before she had a chance to respond, he hung up. _That_ did not improve things. Claire looked at the blinking minutes counter after he ended the call and had to suppress the urge to punch something. Immediately, she opened the thing's keyboard and sent him a short but succinct message:

'**I love you, but I really don't like you right now.**'

A couple minutes later, the phone dinged with an incoming reply message:

'**I know. I'll sleep in the chair when I get back. Jesse's in that boat with you.**'

Then a second one chimed in on its tail: '**Love you, too.**'

* * *

><p>Perhaps he'd been wrong about the siblings thing, or maybe it hadn't gotten around to heading in the direction of the Fairchilds' house, but at any rate Ben found the stake-out to be unsuccessful. He was exhausted by the time he finally pulled the GTO into the parking lot, the early dawn light just starting to brighten the sky. There was a long day ahead of them, and still so much to do.<p>

_I'll sleep tonight,_ Ben decided as he climbed out of the car and shut the door, trudging toward their hotel room. _Not like I haven't pulled 48 hours before._ Trying to be as quiet as possible, he slid the key into the lock and gave it a twist, then quietly opened the door.

Sitting at the small hotel table, Claire looked up briefly from the cheap Styrofoam cup of coffee beneath her lips, but she said nothing. Her phone sat next to the open lap top in front of her, neither of which she was actually touching. She'd been there for roughly three hours.

His eyes closed, Jesse's back tensed where he was still curled on the bed. He hadn't been asleep since Claire got up, and even before then he'd only caught moments of sleep in short starts. But he hadn't wanted Ben to realize he'd been worried, and he didn't want to ask Claire if she was up just because she was (she always got up before he did) or because she was worried. Hearing Ben come through the door didn't relieve the tension, though. If anything, his stomach clenched tighter.

Ben looked between the two of them where they were settled and somehow managed not to sigh. Wordlessly he moved toward the little kitchenette, finding the pot of coffee and pouring himself a cup.

"Ended up being a bust," he murmured.

_At least there's that,_ Claire uttered in thought, but only nodded and downed the rest of her coffee. There were several reasons why she chose not to speak, all switching places as the most prominent in her mind; everything from Jesse being asleep to the avoidance of a heated conversation she could just _sense_ coming, one that wouldn't be worth it. Either way, after staring at the screen for so long and not finding what she was originally looking for, she felt like her skin was crawling. Despite the weight of fatigue, she felt like a firecracker stuck in a jar.

Ben took a deep pull from the cup before moving over to where she was sitting. He hesitated for only a moment before putting it down, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders lightly before moving into a gentle massage.

"I'm sorry I was acting like a jerk," he said after a moment, his voice still pitched low. "You were right. I would've freaked out if it'd been reverse."

The moment he'd first touched her, she had to fight the strong urge to tense up. She had closed her eyes and set her jaw against the twinge behind it that always prologued that particular breed of anger. But then, he apologized. Claire went from lit fuse to diffused bomb in a matter of one heartbeat, and it surprised her so much, that she actually dropped her shoulders in a soundless, aborted chuckle. Her hand abandoned the coffee cup and set atop his on her shoulder. Her sigh felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.

She squeezed his hand before finding a voice, though it was low and tired as his. "I'm writing that down." Ben smiled faintly, leaning over her so that he could press a kiss to the top of her head. His hands continued to move, careful not to work the skin and muscle too hard.

"He still pissed at me, too?" came the soft inquiry.

"He was annoyed. _I_ was pissed," she corrected, though in a lighter tone. Her hand left his to rub a bit of uncomfortable warmth away from her eyes. "You should grab a couple hours. Nothing opens 'til nine."

Wanting to avoid arguing, Ben simply nodded and sought out her lips for a quick kiss. "Only if you come with," he said. Quick as the kiss was, it was like salve on a burn, soothing away much of the remaining tension she'd been holding onto for the better part of twelve hours.

"I'm not tired," she lied softly, but it was only a white one. She was tired, but she wouldn't be sleeping. She knew he understood that feeling. "Thought I might go for a run; bring back breakfast."

Something in Ben's chest ached at the quiet rejection, but he pushed it down and nodded again, stealing one last kiss. She wasn't out for his permission, and he wasn't about to act like she had to ask for it; she was being courteous.

"'Kay. If you change your mind..." he murmured, giving a little knock to the side with his head before pulling back. He left his unfinished coffee on the table and worked his shoes off with his heels.

The screen wasn't offering anything more than it had two hours ago. The weight off her mind of Ben being back, the air between them thawed, and his impending rest left the buzzing energy under her skin a lot less oppressive, but some time alone on the road might help clear her head enough for a new perspective or old memory to give them a lead. She goosed Ben as she walked behind him, pulling a sharp breath of surprise out of him as she headed for her bag. Ben shot her a look over his shoulder of playful indignation, but didn't retaliate. There'd be time for that later.

It was quick work undressing down to his boxers, then he padded softly over to the bed. Jesse was curled up on the far right side, his back to the door. Ben tried not to read into it too much as he crawled up the length of it. The bedsheets were tangled near the end of the bed, either kicked off or discarded, he didn't know. Not sure how Jesse would react but unable to deny himself what he'd become so used to having, Ben curled up against him and slid an arm over Jesse's hip.

Jesse felt as though he melted into him, a long breath escaping his lips. He didn't look over or open his eyes but murmured, "So I guess you didn't get your face eaten off by some evil pied piper."

Ben pressed his face into Jesse's shoulder, his arm shifting to circle him a little tighter. "I made a mistake," he replied in a similar timber.

"Yeah," Jesse said lightly, though his chest felt tight. "You're beginning to make a habit of that."

Though his face was already pressed into the warm skin, Ben made a more deliberate move to kiss Jesse's shoulder, his palm opening up to rest on Jesse's chest. "Forgive me?"

Swallowing, Jesse nodded before saying, "'Course, mate. Don't worry about it."

Ben nodded in answer, finally letting his eyes fall closed. He felt so tired, but somehow his body wasn't quite ready to let him sleep. Maybe it was the coffee's fault, he didn't know, but the warm body against his was enough to dull the tension in his head and heart.

Claire had been quiet through the whole murmured conversation, slipping into a sports bra and shorts, earbuds from the player in her ears-but not turned on. The soft words acted like codine to her emotional system, but she still didn't say anything. Just gave them both a soft adoring smile-whether they saw it or not-and slipped out the door.

* * *

><p>Figuring the best course of action would be picking up the Fed role before the <em>actual<em> Feds showed up, Claire went for the well cut, charcoal slacks and blazer. Then she remembered how she'd practically melted in the heat of the morning on her jog, and left the blazer back at the hotel. Thankfully the cream sleeveless undershirt was silk, and professional enough to get beyond the suspicions of small town school faculty. She and Jesse sat in the air conditioned office of Principal Harold Bronson, who she noticed had eye-balled _her_ badge a lot closer than he had Jesse's.

Her first instinct screamed 'distrust of female authority'. It wasn't long before he proved her right. He _still_ hadn't looked her in the eye.

"We're going to need a list of faculty names and how long they've been here before we leave," she said curtly, but without much room for escape.

"Beg your pardon, ma'am," Bronson replied. "I just don' see how the FBI would be so interested in this so quickly when our own police force hasn't released a statement yet."

"With all due respect, sir, we don't receive our information solely from small town PD public statements," Claire replied in the same tone, going on before he had a chance to further back peddle. "Our help was asked for, so we're here. I'd expect, since five children have disappeared and the only connection so far is _your school_, that we'll have your full cooperation."

Bronson gave the two of them a polite smile. "Of course," he said smoothly. "I wouldn't dream of interferin' with your investigation. I'll get my assistant on that right away."

"Appreciated," Jesse added with a tight smile. The principal pressed a button on the phone.

"Sheryl?"

_"Yes, sir?"_

Bronson looked between Jesse and Claire again before speaking. "Can you print off a copy of the employee records and bring 'em to my office, ASAP?"

_"Right away, sir. Should I prep it in any way, or...?"_

"Reg'lar print is fine. Thank you, Sheryl."

Claire's professional smile, small and cordial, flashed briefly before she went on. "Did any of the children's teachers report strange or out of character behavior before the disappearances?"

"No, ma'am," Bronson answered. "Nothin' outta the ordinary, at least. We pride ourselves on providing an excellent learnin' environment for our students."

Jesse tried not to sigh. Places always turned into pillars of their community when any blame might be headed their way. "Of course. We have no doubt of that. But if a student mentioned something strange, going on in their home life, it could help our investigation."

Bronson frowned slightly. "Our counseling staff would have brought somethin' to my attention if they'd seen cause to worry, and rest assured I do not take our students' concerns lightly, Agent Troy."

Principal Bronson was certainly reassuring them a lot. Not that it was uncommon; he was obviously under pressure, but Claire wasn't getting any particular vibes from him otherwise. She resettled back against the chair, turning the pen in her hand as a subtle show of thought.

"Is there anyone in particular you recommend we speak with first?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Bronson said, his voice even. "We do extensive background checks on our teachers and staff. If you're thinking any of my employees are behind the abductions, then I'll want to know."

"We're just covering all the bases, sir," Jesse reassured him. "No reason to suspect them above anyone else just yet."

A shadow at the office door drew Claire's attention over her shoulder, where she saw the familiar face of the receptionist, holding a short stack of neatly folded papers in her hand.

Five minutes later, and after Claire requested the use of the empty teacher's lounge for a work and interview space, she leaned back against the lunch table, pouring over the first two pages of the list.

Insisting on it, Jesse read over the next two pages to make it go faster. His eyes immediately paused on the word "music."

"Hey, they have a music teacher here." Claire looked up from her pages, automatically quirking a brow.

"And?"

Jesse ducked his head sheepishly. "Sorry. Piper, music, guess it just stood out." His eyes went back to the list but not for long. "Would it make a difference if she'd just been hired a month ago?"

That caught Claire's attention. The other brow raised with its twin as she moved to stand beside him, glancing down at the hire date. "Yeah, I'd say it would. Districts usually don't hire this late in the semester." Also, the timing fit.

A smile tugged at Jesse's lips. "Alright. Chalk one up on the person-of-interest list."

Claire couldn't help but quirk a grin at his little spark of enthusiasm. She made a mental note about the music teacher's name and looked back down at her list. "You're adorable when you're excited," she spoke to the paper.

Jesse felt a blush rise to his cheeks but shrugged it off. "Well you're adorable all the time," he said, giving her hair a fond little tug before looking back at his list. She huffed a soundless laugh through her nose, and mumbled back.

"Like a labradoodle."

* * *

><p>Ben was having second thoughts about volunteering to go with Jacob.<p>

It wasn't because the man wasn't prepared and played the role badly. If anything, the first family they spoke to seemed a lot more at ease speaking to Jacob than him given the fact that like attracted like. He fit the bill for a Southern boy, and Ben had a horrible time faking the accent so he held back, only speaking up when a particular question came to mind. What gave him reason for having second thoughts was the fact that the more time he spent with the man, the more Ben didn't like him. He introduced Ben as being 'new' to the paper, being 'inexperienced' and that he needed to be 'shown the ropes.'

It was obvious what kind of shit he was trying to pull, and it took all of Ben's energy to keep his face relaxed and neutral; to smile sheepishly through the role and play it believably. The moment they were out through the doors and heading back to the car, however, Ben grabbed his shoulder and flipped him around.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Jacob's brows arched at him, moving through the turn and not bothering to pull back. The relaxed look on his face, however, was gone.

"'cuze me?"

Ben just barely bit back a sneer. "The newbie rubbing-in bullshit. Don't act like I don't know what you're doin'."

Jacob gave him a thin-lipped smile. "Dunno what'cher talkin' 'bout, Benj. Just playin' off what feels natural izzall. Sounds t'me like yer bein' a bit sensitive."

Ben felt himself bristling as he pulled back his hand, unable to hide the scowl. "It's Ben."

Jacob shrugged, the smile never leaving his face. "My mistake. C'mon, we're burnin' daylight standin' out here."

Then he turned and started off to the car again. Ben remained where he stood, his voice a bit louder when he spoke again to compensate for the distance:

"Y'know, it's funny how you've been here for three days and shit hasn't even gotten done."

Jacob stopped and turned again, once again looking mildly surprised. Ben continued on.

"Even funnier that you missed connection to the Fairchild's eldest. Maybe we should just pick up the case and let you get back to something a little easier for you."

Jacob's eyes narrowed and hardened, but smiled that same not-smile. "From what I hear, that lead ended up amountin' to nothin' anyway, so what's yer point?"

Ben's jaw clenched and he opened his mouth to speak, but Jacob cut him off. "It's a cursed object. Dunno how familiar you are with 'em, but they ain't that easy to find, and you'll need my help juss' as much as I need yers. So why don't we juss' get back in the car and get back t'lookin' fer it, so we can all go our separate ways, eh?"

The word 'separate' sent a flash of anger across Ben's nerves. "She's not going anywhere without me, just so you know. Whatever you had with her is over."

Jacob's expression shifted with the words, his lips curling back in a mean, smug smile. "Well, you know the old saying:" he said, holding out a lengthy pause as he looked Ben straight in the eye. "You never forget yer first."

Just like that, something inside Ben snapped. Instinct and rage took over, launching him forward at the other man with his arm pulled back for a punch, but Jacob had been expecting it. He ducked out of the way expertly, grabbing Ben at the back of the arm and using his momentum to slam him into the side of the car. The pin, however, was one that Ben was very familiar with, and Ben threw his head backward with considerable force, feeling a rush of satisfaction as he heard the crack of bone and felt Jacob's grip go loose. He didn't have long to enjoy the results though, as Jacob wasted no time throwing a punch straight into his eye. Stars exploded behind his vision, but Ben threw his next punch anyway, connecting solidly with Jacob's gut. The man doubled over, giving Ben just enough time to recover and uppercut him to the jaw, which sent him sprawling to the pavement.

Ben stood over him, panting, feeling blood oozing down his cheek. He reached up and touched it, feeling a split in the skin, then looked down at Jacob's hand. He was wearing a ring. _Fucking bastard._ Without another word, he turned on his heels and stalked off down the street.

* * *

><p>Even though the lead was small, it was something, and so Jesse was in a good mood, despite even the hot drive back to the hotel. When he opened the door to see Ben coming out of the bathroom, his first instinct was to smile. Then his eyes fell on the small bloodstains on Ben's half-undone white shirt, and the swelling around Ben's eye.<p>

"Shit, what happened?" he said, not even closing the door as he hurried forward.

Ben finished peeling off the shirt and moved to his bag, searching for the Tide pen or a can of club soda. He kept his face mostly pointed down the entire time.

"I don't wanna talk about it," he muttered.

"What? C'mon, man, what happened? Did one of the dads get pissed at you? Or was it one of the moms and that's why you don't wanna talk about it?" It wasn't that hard to joke, since Ben clearly wasn't in any danger, but that didn't stop his stomach crunched with nerves. He took Ben's shoulder, trying to turn him around, but Ben shrugged out of it hard.

"I said I don't wanna talk about it," he said sharply, not quite a snap but halfway there. Clearly whatever happened hadn't happened that long ago for him to still be so on edge; he was still shaking.

Jesse frowned deeply, taking a step back. What could've happened? It wasn't like Ben had been alone, he- "Jacob. It was fucking Jacob," Jesse said, his voice hardening. "Where is he?"

Ben sneered slightly, looking briefly vindicated. "Oh, he didn't get away on top. No need to white knight me, man. It's fine." Ben found the Tide pen and took it, along with his shirt, toward the bathroom.

"Who 'didn't get away on top'?" Looking a mix of confused and concerned, Claire appeared at the hotel door, three fully loaded Southern Barbecue dinners in Styrofoam containers stacked in her hands. Ben's shoulders immediately tensed, his stride widening before he disappeared into the bathroom. It was only a temporary solution to the problem, though; he couldn't hide in there forever.

"Jacob attacked him," Jesse said in disbelief, even as he moved forward to help with the dinners. "He's all bloodied up."

"What? _Why_?" The alarm in her eyes sharpened with her voice, but for one reason or another, there was a lot less confusion there.

"He didn't attack me," Ben called out from the bathroom, anger coloring his voice. "Attacking implies surprise. I wasn't surprised."

Claire just stood there for a minute, staring at the bathroom door. The sick feeling in her stomach was only getting stronger, and though her first instinct was to demand more information, she very much doubted getting it would settle her nerves. After forcing a deep breath released darkly through her nose, she looked at Jesse, then looked at the door behind her; clearly trying to decide on something-specifically, what to do.

Scowling, Jesse moved towards the door, leaning against it. "Ben, why would he do that?"

This time, Ben did snap: "What part of '_I don't wanna talk about it_' isn't makin' sense to you? Do I need to spell it out?" He scrubbed furiously at the little red flecks on his shirt, then angrily threw the handle on the faucet to cold and stuck the patch of fabric beneath it with the hope that it would help. He didn't have too many clean white shirts.

"Don't you jump on him, Ben-you'd be asking the same questions," Claire injected sharply in Jesse's defense, but the edge on her voice softened before she reached the end of her sentence. However, she didn't press the matter, either.

Trying to make his expression blank, Jesse moved quietly away from the door. Sitting on the bed, he got to working his shoes off. Claire lightly put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, though her eyes were on the bathroom door.

The immediate silence was enough to make Ben stop. It felt like the quiet before the storm, and it put him on edge. "Fuck, do we have any bleach? And an ice pack that hasn't been used yet?"

After another long pause, Claire finally decided what she was going to do.

"I'll go get one from the office," she said simply, and turned for the door without another word.

"No, it's fine, I'll get it," Ben said, his anxiety bubbling over as he threw the door open and moved to his bag to get a clean shirt, once again keeping his head down.

His jaw clenched, Jesse didn't look Ben's way, just shifting his position so he was sitting in front of the air conditioner. Claire stopped at the door, slowly turning to face Ben and the rest of the room. She still had intent behind her eyes, but something kept her anchored. Something needed to be resolved.

She watched the side of his face. Even though he tried to hide it, she could see the swelling, and it riled her something fierce, but Claire kept a lid on it as a point of necessity. She folded her arms across her chest and swallowed hard, looking at the floor before she spoke in a low, calm voice.

"Either tell us what happened, or let it go completely-_all of it_. This-_tension_... is gonna get someone killed." She rolled her lips and looked back up, her shoulder blades leaning back against the door. No one was getting through it without going through her, until this was fucking settled. Ben had just pulled the shirt over his head and looked up at the door, and immediately felt the rush of fight or flight at her obstacle. The trembling came back in full force.

"I just wanna get some bleach and an ice pack," he said, his voice sounding slightly strained. "Please." Claire met his eyes and didn't drop them. With the hard line of contact, she felt her stomach drop and tie itself in a knot, but she didn't move. Not yet.

"Is it over?" she almost whispered, her words carrying more weight in consequences and meaning than actual tone. Ben's face twisted in confusion at the underlying question.

"I'm not goin' anywhere," he said, conviction in his tone. "I wanna be here." Claire swallowed something thick in her throat and couldn't help the way her eyes closed, even briefly.

She shook her head, and spoke softly. "We want you here. But ever since we started this way, you've had the moods of a rattlesnake." Claire sought his eyes again. "If you don't wanna talk about what happened, fine-I get it," she said, not unkindly. She really did get it. "But you gotta drop this."

An involuntary shudder broke across Ben's shoulders and he ducked his head, his hands coming up through his hair. He could still feel the after-burn of rage in his chest, scarring and aching after the fight. It wasn't going to start healing over until they were gone, and he had a pretty good feeling that wasn't gonna be anytime soon. He hated it.

"I'll stay behind the scenes and research from now on," he said after a moment. It filled him with insurmountable fear, but he didn't have a choice.

"Now you're being sensible. Took you long enough," Jesse grumbled, still not turning around. Ben tensed up immediately, the fear taking backseat to shame and humiliation.

Whether that was a good idea or not, or even if Claire agreed to it remained unsaid. She simply remained silent, watching them both, but mostly Ben. After a long moment, she finally spoke; her voice a notch even lower than earlier, and said as she reached for the door handle. "I'll be right back."

Ben didn't argue, slumping into the chair nearest his bag the moment the door shut. Jesse sat in the heavy silence for a long while, coming up with a few dozen things he wanted to say to to Ben. But most of them amounted to "You hurt my feelings," and he didn't want to sound like that much of a pansy.

Finally he gritted out, "There are kids missing. I thought that would've been enough for you to get over yourself."

"Fucker asked for it," Ben replied bitterly.

That finally got Jesse to turn around. "Yeah? What did the fucker ask for exactly? What'd you do to the guy who asked us down here to help?"

"He was fucking belittling me!" Ben said explosively. "You'd've done it, too, if it were you! And he-" He forced himself to stop, take a slow breath, then let it out. "He slept with Claire. More'n that: Claire cashed in her v-card with him."

There were a couple beats before Jesse said, "Are you taking the piss or what? You gonna go beat up Millie Harris, too?"

"You know what? Forget it," Ben said harshly, standing up and going to the mini fridge. There was a little ice in the tiny rectangle of freezer space in it, he'd work with that until Claire came back. "Apparently I'm the only one who can tell he's still fuckin' jonesing for her. Either that, or I'm just batshit crazy." Realizing he didn't have a towel to put the ice in, he stood up jerkily and went to get one from the bathroom.

Jesse followed him. "What does it matter if he wants her? Claire doesn't want him. And I fucking doubt he called her here from Vegas to try for a booty call. C'mon, he only ever knew her for three days."

"And she dropped all our shit to come runnin', didn't you notice?" Ben spat, turning around to move out of the bathroom only to find Jesse in the archway. He stopped in his tracks, feeling tension in his muscles again. "I need to put ice on my eye."

"She came running because _kids are going missing_," Jesse said, not moving from where he stood. "Shit, Ben, you're the one who went on and on about trusting each other. Now you're acting like you don't trust Claire at all."

"I do trust her!" Ben shouted. Once again, trembles shook him. "Goddammit, I _do trust her!_ But fuck, you don't think he's not thinking that! That she just dropped it all and came? You don't think he's gonna try'n work with that!"

"No, I don't," Jesse said, his hand on his hips. "Mate, I've been on the wrong side of hunters before, and I even I don't think they're shitty enough to put sex before the hunt."

"Can you please just get out of the way and let me get the ice?" Ben snapped, the negative emotions twisting around inside him threatening to manifest again. He didn't want to fight anymore, not in his current state, but it was starting to feel like the only option he had.

That moment, the hotel door opened. Claire slipped inside, wearing the same expression as she'd left with, only slightly softened. Of course, the atmosphere in the room was thick as fog, and full of static, thanks to the raised voices coming from the bathroom. Her jaw set briefly, but it was short lived-in her hands, she carried a single-packet of bleach from the hotel laundry room, and a first-aid ice pack.

She hadn't intended to simply go out and retrieve the items, but her 'detour' was abandoned after some considerable thought. Claire wasn't sure she felt better about it right then or not, but that didn't matter now. She just stood there, listening.

Jesse didn't move, and the only reason Ben didn't shove him was because he was too afraid of his own strength. In all honesty, he felt just on the verge of tears. "Goddammit, Jess, there are thousands of hunts goin' on _right now,_ and hardly enough hunters to even cover the bases! But this sonofabitch is smooth as fuckin' butter, and more'n capable of workin' a case on his own. He might not be up to tryin' somethin' on the job, but you bet your _ass_ he's gonna be workin' up to it with every free second he has!"

"Yeah? Just like I was fucking all the hookers of Vegas?" Jesse said, raising an eyebrow. "Whatever's wrong with you, Ben, you got to sit down and figure it out, because this fucking paranoia is getting old."

Ben sputtered, deja vu hitting him like a punch in the gut, his face flushing with agitation and inexplicable shame.

"I'm _not paranoid_," he declared. "I know how guys like that act!"

"Like jealous teenagers?" Claire finally chimed in, the strain in her voice just shy of making it crack. It felt like all of his insides rushed up into his throat and Ben moved his hand out swiftly to the bathroom countertop to stop from swaying on his feet. He could hear the accusation mixed up in her tone, and the shame was all-consuming. Claire dropped the bleach packet on the bed on her way toward the bathroom, gently slipping past Jesse's blockade.

"Is holding onto all that really worth _this_?" she went on, teetering on the edge of mental exhaustion. Ben moved to sit back on the lid of the toilet for fear that his legs would shake him to the ground. He felt sick and speechless.

Jesse frowned in concern, shifting closer behind Claire. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

Ben pushed his face into his hands and ducked his head low, then hissed with pain as the heel of his hand collided with his black eye. He felt dehydrated, dizzy, and in pain. The walk through the Louisiana heat hadn't helped calm him at all, either. What he wanted more than anything was just to leave, but that wasn't an option. It felt like any power he had over his own life was slowly starting to drift away. There wasn't a single thing he could say or do to make any of his insecurities stop.

"Get him some water?" she asked Jesse gently over her shoulder, then slowly squared herself in front of Ben's hunched form. She was beyond anger or extreme agitation; she was worn down, and for the most part, sad. Without a word, Jesse grabbed a glass from the counter, filling it but unsure if Ben wanted it yet. Seeing him struggle with _anything_ was hard on both the other two, especially when everything they tried to do to help only made it worse.

"_Lemme see_," she whispered in a tone that she hoped would sooth him, as well as herself. Gentle fingertips angled his face up toward her, and she stood close as she placed the felt-covered ice pack on the swelling. He couldn't even meet her gaze, and in spite of everything he could feel tears weeping out of the corners of his eyes.

"Here," Jesse said quietly, holding the glass down for him, which he took wordlessly.

"Thanks, Jess." Claire uttered, not even bothering to restrict the emotion in her voice anymore. She met his eyes briefly, conveying the worry and fatigue before her attention turned back down to Ben. Her thumb swiped away the drop of moisture that trailed with road dust and sweat from his good eye. Ben swallowed hard, then gave an audible, shaky sigh and closed his eyes.

"I juss' wanna be 'lone for'a while," he said thickly.

Jesse's insides gave a twist. "We'll go if you want, but it... it's alright for you to cry in front of us, y'know."

Ben made a choked noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob - though definitely leaning more towards the latter - and moved his hand up around Claire's to palm his left eye. Claire swallowed the knot in her throat.

She bent down, adjusting the hand he'd just moved a little more toward his temple, so she could give him a slow kiss. The mix of emotion was just enough to send him teetering off the deep end and much to his inward horror, he moved his free arm to her shoulder and clutched as if his life depended on it.

"Please don't leave me," he said brokenly. "Please, I can't- I can't-"

The space around the toilet was cramped, forcing Jesse to sit on the rim of the bathtub as he moved around. His hand rubbed Ben's back as he nuzzled in close. "No one is going anywhere, okay? We're right here."

The smallness of the bathroom seemed only to get smaller at the sudden addition of another body, but Ben didn't care. He would happily suffocate if it meant being held by both of them, even if he did feel incredibly ashamed and small. Worse still, he knew they'd brought food home and it was getting cold because of him, and that he was wasting their time with his issues. It only made him feel worse.

After a few moments of running her hand through his hair and checking the swollen cheek bone under the cool-pack, Claire lightly brushed his lips with hers, then whispered against them. "You wanna take a cool shower? Recharge a little?" Another kiss to the side of his mouth. "We'll heat up the ribs on the car-hood," she teased, letting the faint smile of unspoken acceptance and forgiveness touch her words. "You smell like hell."

Again, Ben made the same choked noise, but this time it leaned a little more toward humor than sadness. The hand not settled on Claire's shoulder reached blindly for Jesse, resting briefly on the other man's side before he nodded.

"I feel like it, so I guess that makes sense," he said, the words still a little wet from crying.

Jesse smiled, pressing a kiss to Ben's temple. "Shower should help with that, too. Need any help? Or company?"

Somehow in spite the horrible thickness in his chest, Jesse's words pierced through it and lessened the ache. All Ben felt he'd been doing lately was making Jesse angry at him, and yet he still wanted to be there. Claire, too. He felt like he didn't deserve it.

"Yeah," he breathed out. "That'd be nice."

* * *

><p>"Jess, grab me," he said in a plaintiff voice, his arms and legs both shaking.<p>

Leaning dangerously to the side anyway, Jesse had no problem grabbing Ben as he tumbled over. The glorious roominess of the king size bed made it all too easy. And since he had his arm around him anyway, Jesse pulled Ben flush against him, pressing a contented kiss to the back of his neck.

Flushed at the cheeks, lips, and just about everywhere else, Claire's chest still heaved as her body fought its own tension. Her eyes stayed closed for a moment, the sparks behind her eyelids hinted at a mild lack of oxygen, but it was difficult to concentrate on that at the moment.

"She hasn't come yet," Ben panted, fighting to breathe normally again. The words out of his mouth actually pushed a half-gasped chuckle from her. "I- Claire-" He swallowed and then reached for her. He didn't want her left behind. "C'mere."

Amused, Jesse pressed a kiss lower on Ben's back, but that was about all the strength he could muster. As far as he was concerned, the whole thing had been for Ben's benefit, and that was a job well done.

The tingle was going away, at least, though Claire felt like she'd just sprinted ten miles. She sat back on bent elbows, her breathing still a bit rough, but she still managed a smile at him. He looked loose as a ragdoll, which was good. A small voice she rarely listened to was screaming inside, but faded quick enough. Her brain was already switching wires to channel the tightened spring-like energy into something else.

She rolled to her belly beside him and caught his lips in a slow, but poignant kiss. "Get some rest," she demanded softly, then scooted off the end of the bed. Something small and buried in Ben's chest ached when she pulled away and again he reached out for her, but the darkness was already tugging hard at his brain. He was exhausted, and there was no need to fight it anymore. They would take care of him. Shifting in the embrace of the body still tucked against his, he closed his eyes and started to drift.

* * *

><p>Heat mirage drifted from the street in front and behind Claire, and gave the impression that everything that touched the cracked asphalt sizzled and baked, even in the shade. The oppressive heat was a distraction from the uncomfortable buzz in her muscles, but she was starting to regret deciding to take the long loop without packing a bottle of water. She'd been out for an hour, the dark green jogging shorts and black sports bra streaked with what perspiration wasn't already clinging to her skin. Even doubled in a pony tail high away from her neck, Claire's hair was damp and clung to anything it touched.<p>

Climbing the tree-lined hill toward the hotel felt like a home-stretch, and though much of the tension she'd meant to purge was still there, the anticipation of air conditioning and _another_ shower - this one, cold - flooded her burning veins with relief. Until she saw the green Caddy come into view from behind a shoddy SUV in the parking lot, and movement at it's side.

Jacob clicked the auto-lock button on the car, which gave a muted _beep_ as he came around the front of it. Pausing long enough to find his hotel key, he started trudging down the walkway toward it, oblivious to Claire's presence. Claire just ambled there for a moment, for the second time that day pulled between decisions.

In the end, she decided to try and end the fuckery all together.

"You just couldn't let it go, could you." She stood behind him, out of swinging distance-tight as everyone was wound, sneaking up on someone she knew as dangerous would've been a stupid move. _Another_ stupid move-seemed the area was ripe with them that day.

Jacob froze midstep, every visible muscle pulled tense before he finally relaxed and turned to look at her. Three very prominent bruises spread along his face, but the thing that drew immediate attention was the bandage along his swollen nose. He frowned a little at her, then shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

"He was lookin' fer a fight. I gave 'im one." Claire looked unconvinced, and unimpressed.

"'Cause _that_ was the best idea you had at the time," she said, heavy on the cynicism. Again, he shrugged.

"Never claimed I was full of bright ideas." He paused, looking her over, then brought his eyes back up to her face again. "Didja find any new info?" Claire just glared her frustration at his busted face, her hands set on her hips, in damp jersey fabric.

Finally, after a hard breath and a dejected look at the ground, she shook her head. "Just a new music teacher at the school, but it's weak." Her voice was tight as wire.

"Sounds like a lead if I ever heard'a one," he said, shifting his weight on his feet as he continued to watch her body language. "Looks like I'm outta Official Interviewing for a bit, but I'm gonna hit the bar shortly'n see if I can find any leads there."

The mention of a bar triggered a vague sense of longing in the back of Claire's mind, and she was involuntarily reminded of how bad she wanted a drink. But she bit it down with a mild swallow, shifting weight from one tennis shoe to the other. Even after an hour of solid running, she couldn't sit still. Right then, _she_ wasn't that far from looking for something to fight.

"I'll take care of the interviews," she breathed, dismissively. Ben wouldn't be on that task for a while either, for the same reason. Again, Claire shook her head, then met his eyes. Hers were sharp, and clearly warning. "Just-everything else, that's not this job: just drop it, like I _asked_ earlier."

Jacob looked between her eyes for a moment silently and then frowned a little, his jaw working. After a moment, he said, "If I put a strain between yer boys, I'm sorry. You shouldda told 'em yerself, 'n maybe this wouldn'ta happened in the first place. Or d'you not trust 'em to be able t'handle that kinda knowledge?"

Claire's eyebrows shot up, surprise and very obvious instigation written all over her face. "I would'a thought that _all_ of us were mature enough to let things that _didn't matter_ get in the way of doing our jobs-" Her snideness was an automatic reaction to the real reason why she hadn't told the boys. Or _anyone_, to be exact-because it _did_ matter, whether she wanted it to or not. But hell if she was going to admit that to Jacob, if she wasn't going to admit it to herself. She steeled herself on and went in for more. "I'm pretty damn sure you weren't making friendly 'chit chat' with it either, so don't you try an'swing this around on _me_."

Jacob shrugged a third time, then gave her a thin-lipped smile. "Like I said: wanted a fight. We were doin' just fine up until he decided to get nasty with me, an' I wasn't juss' gonna let him stew in it. I said what I wanted t'say. We're done."

_Fucking testosterone._ Claire's life was swimming in it. Sometimes it made it hard to breathe. She tightened her lips at him, trying to sift through what was hard truth and what was dipped in Jacob's particular breed of arrogance.

"I'm sure you did him a great favor," she bit with sarcasm. "Was it worth the gauze up your nose?"

Just for a moment, a smirk flickered across Jacob's face, but it seemed the expression caused him pain and he winced. "I won't be winnin' any more beauty awards, but s'not like it matters much anymore. I let the best one walk away."

Claire just stared at him with a look of scrutinizing sourness. A million things ran through her mind to say, all in a matter of half a second. In the end, she just pushed a hard breath through her nose. She'd spent _years_ in Catholic-based guilt and self-reflection on what she'd become since that night, which she _still_ saw as her official drop from whatever grace she had left. And she'd been in the same horrid summer heat when all of it came crashing down on her, enough to make a second go at the true reasons for why she'd entered the life-though that dark side never really went away. She could feel it, even now, coiling like a spined serpent in her belly, strong as ever.

"That girl doesn't exist anymore," she breathed, lying to herself more than anything, and started to walk past him toward their room.

* * *

><p>Like the summer-showers they woke up to the following morning, drop by drop Claire's frustration with this job was filling. Nothing came from another several hours of pouring over Jacob's notes, and anything resembling a lead or hunch proved to be a path to nowhere. To top it off, at five thirty in the morning, the police scanner set up on the hotel table woke them up to another kid missing.<p>

The atmosphere at the school was as heavy as the air, at least with the faculty. Claire and Jesse were on the receiving end of several concerned and worried looks; even a couple that were suspicious and accusing. Not that she blamed them-she was _used_ to that kind of reception, but Claire's nerves were wearing thin. She could feel the strain sharpen her looks to the music teacher seated in front of them in the empty teacher's lounge, which was why she'd let Jesse take most of the direction of their interview so far.

Claire just leaned on the heavy table nearby, watching the last thread of a lead they had over the brim of her coffee; her eyes trained on any involuntary twitch or slip of the tongue that might give them more of a foothold.

It was Jesse who was getting more antsy as the interview went on, though. His questions were also getting more pointed. "You say a couple students were in your class. Did you ever notice them hanging out with any of the other missing students?"

"Sir, music is a mandatory class for the younger children," the young teacher responded, fiddling with her bracelet for what must have been the hundredth time. "And we only meet once a week per grade until the older children choose it as an elective. I wouldn't know who they spent time with outside of class."

Jesse's face pinched in a scowl. "Did you notice anything unusual going on with any of the students? Had they mentioned strange occurrences or people in town?"

The music teacher shook her head. "No, sir."

"What district did you transfer from, Miss O'Connor?" Claire chimed in quietly, her voice as colorless as her stoic expression.

"Didn't transfer, ma'am," came Miss O'Connor's reply. "I did intern at East Baton Rouge Parish, though." Claire nodded succinctly.

"Kind of late in the term for a new hire-you know what happened to the previous music teacher?" She was careful to keep her tone from being accusatory, but couldn't help but watch the woman's hands fiddle with her bracelet again.

Miss O'Connor shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes dropping to the table top. "Miss Hurwin withdrew to take care of her father. He's recently been diagnosed with inoperable cancer. I'm only a temporary hire, unless she decides to fully retire."

Jesse's foot had been bouncing as he sat watching Claire at work, but he couldn't hold back any longer. "Alright, Miss O'Connor, we don't want to take up too much of your time, so I'll get to the matter at hand. Tell us honestly," he said, the weight of power behind the words. "Do you have any idea what happened to those kids?"

Miss O'Connor blinked at Jesse, her brow furrowed in surprise and confusion at such a direct question. She chewed her lower lip viciously before shaking her head, twisting the bracelet on her wrist in a hard circle. "Outside of what's been said in the paper, sir, I don't know. I wish I did. I might not've known the children long, but this is my first teaching job and I... I've grown to care for them all very much. It's a terrible tragedy what's happened."

Claire watched Jesse for a moment before flicking her gaze back to the teacher. Maybe she was just grasping for straws, but the nervous twitch that could've been interpreted as typical reaction to being interrogated could also be a sign of guilt-at least in some form. And still, her eyes shot back to the bracelet.

His hands clenched on the table but Jesse just gave a short nod. "Alright, miss, I think those are all the questions we have," he said, looking over at Claire, his gaze pointed. The teacher nodded and stood, frowning in concern as she started to move toward the door.

"I hope you find whoever did it," she said before slipping out the door. Claire visibly slumped when she was gone, sighing into her coffee.

"She's lying," Jesse said, as though it was a personal affront. "Or she's not. I can't fucking tell because my powers _weren't working_."

Claire squinted in obvious thought at the gaze on Jesse's face. It was tight with the frustration she could hear in his voice, as well as feel in her own shoulders.

"How do you know they weren't working?"

"I could feel it. It wasn't like the drones or the demon, where it just wasn't getting through. This...this felt like throwing out a net and catching only air," he said, his expression twisted in confusion and not a little fear. "She can't be human."

Claire was quiet for a few moments, working things over in her head. They were getting down to the dregs of ideas, and O'Connor was the closest thing they had, and not by elimination-but by desperation. It made deciding anything about her feel forced. Claire did not like it.

"Maybe," she said thoughtfully. "At least deserves a visit to her house."

* * *

><p>With interviews being out of the question due to his colorful battle scars, Ben eagerly jumped at the chance to get out from behind the computer research and library duty when they'd discussed raiding the teacher's house. Seeing as it was a school day they had plenty of time to work, and when they arrived at the correct address he couldn't help be glad for that little fact; her house was surprisingly large. <em>No doubt she inherited it or something, all the houses here are family homesteads,<em> Ben mused, driving them down a few blocks before parking and killing the engine.

"God, I hope she lives here by herself," he muttered, pocketing the keys and double-checking his lock pick set.

"She goes by 'Miss.' I'm betting the only thing we might have to worry about is spinster roommates," Jesse said wryly. "If you're really worried, though, I can pop in alone, like I said before."

It wasn't the first time since they'd started hunting together that Jesse offered to be the human wall and while Ben knew he could heal or zip out quickly, he didn't like the idea of them being separate. He also couldn't help feel a twinge of bitterness that it seemed okay for Jesse to go into a situation alone but the moment Ben offered to do the same, both Jesse and Claire gave him shit for it.

"Let's just do it the old fashioned way, shall we?" he replied. When they got up to the door he knocked swiftly.

Back to the door, Jesse kept a casual lookout as, after there was no answer, Ben set to work. It wasn't long and soon they were walking into the musty old house. "Yeesh. Looks like someone vomited lace in here."

Ben looked around from the foyer thoughtfully, then added. "Wow, she doesn't own a hundred cats. Color me surprised." His eyes trailed along the staircase leading up to the second floor, which was lined with framed photographs. "I'll take upstairs, you take ground floor?"

"Sounds good. Think I'll hit the kitchen first; if she really isn't human, that'll probably show it," Jesse said, heading down the hall.

"Whatever, you're just out to make a sandwich," Ben heckled, already starting up the stairs. He got about three steps up before a face in the fifth picture stopped him.

"What the..."

It was the father of the Fairchild kids. Or, well, the step-father. He remembered that from the interview.

"Don't tell me you found a shedding of her second skin or something already," Jesse called, stopping in the kitchen doorway.

"Naw, man, she's got a photo of one of the guys we interviewed." Ben raked his brain, trying to remember the man's name. "Judah. His name's Judah Allweather. He was the Fairchild girl's step-father."

"That's sufficiently creepy," Jesse said. "I'm guessing there's probably a connection?"

Ben frowned as he studied the picture. The woman appeared extremely happy to be there, whereas Judah Allweather looked bored. That wasn't exactly a good sign. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open, taking a snapshot with his camera to send it to Claire.

"Lessee what Claire thinks."

Jesse shrugged and started going through the kitchen. If the woman wasn't human, she was doing an awfully good job of hiding it. It was well stocked, enough that a single woman could probably survive a month on it all. She even had a whole shelf for herbs. He moved into the dining room.

Once he was at the top of the stairs, Ben immediately started opening doors to the rooms lining the halls. The first one appeared to be a guest bedroom, and the second a small library. He made a mental note of that before going into the third, which appeared to be some sort of private music room. There was an upright piano along with several music stands and various instruments on stands. _So she does private lessons?_ he wondered, opening cases and checking the sheet music. No sign of any sort of flute or wind instrument, though. _Damn._

Ben's phone buzzed to life, signalling a new text message from Claire; a reply to the picture.

_Running Judah now. Find anything else?_

"Find anything?" Ben called out.

"Cutesy china figurines is about the creepiest it gets in here!" Jesse called from the living room.

"I dunno man, that's pretty damn creepy!" Ben shouted back, texting Claire a reply message:

_Boring house is boring. Why do I get all the uncool jobs?_

Her reply came back quickly:

_You jumped on this one. See if you can find that braided bracelet. Jesse knows._

Ben closed the door to the music room, heading back in the hall and sticking his head down the stairwell. "What about a bracelet?"

"Huh?" he called back.

"Claire said something about a braided bracelet."

Jesse frowned. "...In general, or something specific? You might have more luck in the bedroom with that kinda thing."

Ben also frowned, confused as he headed back down the hall and toward the master bedroom. The large bay windows facing the front of the house made the room surprisingly bright and he grimaced at the change in light. The bedroom was sparsely decorated, but Ben couldn't help notice yet another photograph of Judah Allweather on the music teacher's bedside table.

_Looks like teacher has the hots for step-dad,_ Ben quickly texted Claire, looking at the long dresser for any sign of a jewelry box and finding nothing. He bypassed the drawers for now in favor of the adjoining bathroom door. His phone buzzed with Claire's reply.

_I don't like it._ Followed shortly after with: _I'm 80% sure she had devil's shoestring in that bracelet._

Ben stared at the phone for a moment in confusion before texting back: _Why's it matter if it has devil's shoestring?_

_All the more reason to check every box, don't you think? I won't even go to church below the Bible Belt-it's hard to pick the crazies from the monsters down here._

"Sure enough," Ben said aloud, checking in the little ceramic bowl of jewelry near the mirror. There weren't any braided bracelets, though; just beads and bangles. _No braided bracelets that I can see._

A minute later, Claire replied simply with: _H/O_

Jesse was scouring the den when he heard the ice-down-the-back sound of a key in the lock. He froze where he stood, looking toward the door, then up at the ceiling. _Shit._ He couldn't call out, and he hadn't gotten a look at the upstairs. Trying to appear up there would run the risk of coming out in the middle of a wall. But he couldn't just leave.

Ben found himself standing in place staring at the screen before he realized how stupid a move that was, then quickly moved out into the bedroom again. It seemed like checking the teacher's house was proving to be mostly useless outside of the picture of the Fairchild's step-father. "Maybe I should check the music room again..." he muttered aloud.

As he heard the front door opening, Jesse had no choice. He disappeared, stumbling as he hit the side yard. His heart hammering, he waited in a crouch, hoping Ben would stay quiet upstairs. When he was certain the music teacher must be inside, he crept around the house, keeping lower than the windows. The best he could do right now was warn Ben.

Rushing up the porch, he pounded the doorbell five times before disappearing for the car.

Ben immediately froze midstep, panic rushing through him. Somewhere downstairs, he heard a female voice.

"Lord in heaven, kids still play ding-dong-ditch when they've got computer games and other crap..."

_Shit shit **shit**,_ Ben despaired, running back into the bedroom again. The windows had to unlatch, right? Making sure to shut the door as gently as possible he sprinted over to the window, finding a latch. He gave it three tugs before realizing there was a bar keeping it from opening all the way that needed to be moved. If she was observant, she would notice, but it wasn't like they were going to be coming back to her house again.

Footsteps sounded up the steps far too soon and, panicked, Ben dove under the bed. A moment later, the door opened. Perfect timing for his phone to buzz again.

For a moment, it felt like Ben's heart stopped. The ground trembled lightly with the weight of her foot fall. _Oh **fuck me**!_ came Ben's terrified thought. Not knowing what else to do, he quickly slid his body up against the bed frame to suspend himself from it, just in time for the teacher to drop her head down to look beneath the bed.

"...Weird."

A couple drawers opened and closed, then the door to the bathroom opened. Within seconds the shower was turning on. Ben felt like he was going to have a heart attack. As carefully and quietly as possible, he slid out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and out the front door. It was only when he was a good twenty feet away from the house that he dared look at his phone.

_Found a pattern. Call ASAP_

Jesse was running toward him as soon as he got within sight of the car. "What the fuck is she doing home so early? Did she see you? You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Ben answered, panting from the sprint. "Can you drive?"

* * *

><p>"Chackbay, Raleighville, Green Ridge, New Lennox," Claire listed off tiny one-horse towns on the map she had spread on the hotel wall, each one in their turn and their own little red thumbtack, having no visible pattern besides being relatively close to the East coast. "Dawson, German Town, and about fourteen more that I haven't put up yet-all of'em with ten missing kids over the course of a week. No one ever found."<p>

"Why the fuck haven't the police made this connection? That many kids gone, you'd think someone would have pulled their thumbs out of their asses," Jesse said, scowling as his eyes went over the map.

Ben frowned slightly, feeling a sinking feeling in his gut. "You'd be surprised how many mispers happen every day. It's not something so out of the ordinary that they would notice and with the way they're spread out?" Ben trailed his forefinger along the tacks. "It's like looking for a needle in a stack of needles."

"And they're especially not looking for patterns that skip every twenty-five years." Claire pushed the last of the pins in place and stood back from the board, her hands on her hips. She was glad to have at least something more solid as a lead-however, the idea of how old this thing was congealed the feeling as a brick in her stomach. "All the way back to before this was a country. Probably longer, if it came from somewhere else."

"S'very possible it was brought over with the colonists," Jacob said quietly, his laptop open in his lap and already starting research. "Betcha it would be inna ship's log somewhere, if we can find the earliest township with this same pattern."

"Maybe, but I doubt it," Claire injected, pausing for a sip of water. "Unless it's big enough to be considered cargo, whoever-or whatever-it is would've kept it close."

Ben chewed his lips in thought, trying to think of any other way that it might come to someone's attention, even briefly. "Well... if it _is_ a cursed object," he said slowly, "And a possibility that it came over from across the pond, wouldn't somethin' like that show up in, like, an exposition for a witch burning?"

"Only if the person using it had ever been found out," Jesse pointed out. "If they're still using it, or if they passed it down to children, there's no way to know."

"Wouldn't hurt to look, I guess." Claire leaned back on the table, glancing at the board while setting her laptop on the top of her thigh.

"Should we track Allweather in the meantime?" Ben asked, keeping his eyes trained on Claire.

Jesse raised his eyebrows. "Wait, who? What about the teacher?"

"Both," Claire uttered, typing something into a search engine specifically designed for her. "We can't let any balls drop on this, not until we know more."

"I'll take Allweather, then," Ben said. Jacob looked up from his laptop, his eyes spanning between them before he closed his laptop and stood as well.

"Guess I'll take the teacher, then."

Jesse looked between them. "And what am I going to do?"

"We'll go back and forth, depending on where they are, what they're doing." She gave Jesse a somewhat sympathetic look, knowing how he'd take what she was about to say next. "We gotta find what this object does."

He tried not to look too irritated but Jesse couldn't hold back a sigh. "Right. Guess that's important, too."

Immediately feeling sympathetic, Ben stuck out his curled fist. "I know one way to settle this." Claire mildly rolled her eyes.

"I'm getting Barbecue with whoever stays with me."

"Tempting, but hard to combat the boredom of research. You want to throw in now, Ben, or try your luck?" Jesse said, holding out his fist with a grin.

Having some alone time with Claire, even if it was while they were still mid-job, was appealing enough. Having Southern-style barbecue also sounded fantastic. Ben held his hands up in defeat, trying not to grin on how good he was getting out of this deal. It almost felt like hustling.

"G'head and take it then, man. Have fun."

Jesse beamed. Trust Ben to take boredom as long as it came with food. "Alright. So the plan is I just follow this guy until he doesn't something fishy like kidnapping a kid?"

"Yep," Ben said simply.

"Right. Could I borrow a phone? In case I need to reach you," Jesse said, pointedly not looking at Jacob. Claire dug her phone out of her back pocket and tossed it Jesse's way. Jacob looked between the three of them again with mild confusion, shifting his weight on his feet for a moment.

"Well, I'm gonna head out. Catchya on the flipside."

"Yeah. Give Claire's phone a ring if you see anything. We might cross paths if these two are more than just teacher-parent," Jesse said, bobbing his eyebrows at Jacob. Jacob smirked slightly and chuckled, then gave Jesse a quick wink and wave before slipping out through the door.

* * *

><p>About twenty minutes into tailing Allweather, Jesse realized he might have gotten the short end of the stick after all. That was when he texted Ben, and was told he was SOL and to keep his eyes on the target. An hour in he called. He managed to squeeze in five minutes of talk time before they told him to get back to it.<p>

It was worse after it got dark. Jesse found himself spacing out and having to tell himself to watch. He wished he had coffee. One by one the lights went off in the house. Likely everyone going to sleep. He wondered how Jacob was doing with the teacher.

He was about to try calling Ben again when he saw movement at the side of the house. It was dark, but it looked like a figure pulling a tarp off of something. There was a gentle start of an engine and then a man on a moped pulled out of the drive, going right past Jesse. He had one guess who.

Quickly texting "on the move" to Ben, he started the car and followed Allweather, keeping his headlights off and staying well behind. Five seconds before he'd been knock-down bored but now his heart was hammering.

The phone beeped with an alert of an incoming text:

_Keep on him. If anything happens, don't hesitate._

_'Don't hesitate' to what?_ Jesse wanted to ask, but he tucked the phone in his pocket, eyes on Allweather.

The road got twisty, and a couple times Jesse was afraid he might have lost him in the effort not to be seen, but he always managed to catch up and saw quite clearly when Allweather turned into the long drive of what looked like some old plantation house.

Parking the car on the road, Jesse waited until Allweather was inside before getting out of the car and following. He shot Ben another text: _Big old house, middle of nowhere, he's inside._

There was a pause, then Ben's message jumped up on the little viewscreen: _Thank you, Channel 4 News. What are you waiting for?_

Jesse gave a snort and tucked the phone away. Then he paced the perimeter. In the back, he saw candlelight in the window. Quiet and careful, he looked in. The large, once stately sitting room housed no furniture, only one or two lit candles scattered on the floor, lighting the feet of six children.

They all stood perfectly still, and in no particular order or place; like marionettes without their strings, little heads hung toward little chests, all dressed in pajamas, their hair mussed from sleep.

His stomach giving a flip, Jesse tried to peer into the corners of the room but didn't see Allweather. _Alright. Kids come first. Get them out and then deal with the shithead._ Creeping to the backdoor, he found it unlocked and hurried in. The place was silent and he couldn't so much as see the other end of the hall. The sitting room wasn't hard to find, though.

"Hey," he said quietly, taking the first kid's shoulder and giving it a shake. The was pliable under his hand but didn't look up or react at all. "Hey, c'mon, we gotta get you out of here." He grabbed the next kid but still got no reaction. "Shit."

"Who are you?" came a sudden voice behind him. All the children looked up in unison, their eyes glassy but their lips suddenly turned up in smiles.

The smiles were almost worse than the voice. Swallowing, Jesse turned slowly, afraid of what Allweather might do. The man was tall and looked like he could hold his own, but all he had in his hand was a pale flute. While Jesse had a gun tucked in the back of his jeans.

"Since you're the one with a house full of missing kids, I think I should be asking the questions," Jesse said evenly, hands at his sides.

A dark look fell over the man's face. "You need to leave. Now."

"Not going to happen, mate," Jesse said, his hand reaching back to free his gun's handle. "Now if you let these kids go, maybe we can talk."

Before he was able to fully draw it, Allweather brought the pipe quickly to his lips. The room filled with the eerie sound of the flute's music. All the children immediately looked at Jesse, their little expressions twisting into fury as they swarmed him. Jesse gave out a yelp, trying to twist away. Small, too-strong hands wrenched the gun from him, scratched at him, beat on him. Before he could pull in a breath, pain bloomed in his groin and he fell to his knees. They were pulling at him, tearing at him, and it finally pulled a scream from him.

"STOP!"

The scene was all too much like pressing pause on a movie. All the children screeched to a halt, arms and legs held in midair, their vacant eyes glued on Jesse. Allweather even stopped, momentarily stunned himself at the childrens' reactions, before resuming much more aggressively. The children's eyes immediately widened, their pupils dilating, before their hands came up to their heads and they cried out in pain.

Jesse rose to his feet, his eyes aflame. "Stop playing! Don't move!" he roared at Allweather. The music cut out mid-note and Allweather stared at him, eyes flashing with anger and hate, the flute suspended past his lips.

Sneering, Jesse rubbed at a bite that had broken skin but was already starting to heal. With slow steps, he walked up to Allweather. "You might think you're tough shit, taking out a bunch of kids. But whatever you are, I'm badder. Got it?" Knowing a response wouldn't come, Jesse gave him a shove. Having been ordered not to move and with no way to stop himself, Allweather went into a full tumble and collapsed against the ground.

Scooping up his gun, Jesse pointed it at Allweather's head as he spoke. "Alright. You can speak. But the only words I want to hear are how you're doing it, why you'd kidnap kids, and how you're so sorry and going to free them all right now."

Allweather just sneered at him without saying a word. He remained immobile on the ground, the flutetip still between his lips.

Snatching the flute away, Jesse hit him across the face with the butt of the gun. Allweather's head whipped to the side. "Y'know, I could do this the easy way, but I kind of like having to work for it," Jesse said lightly, pressing the barrel between Allweather's eyes. "Start talking if you want to keep a head to talk from."

Allweather spat a sticky mouthful of blood before speaking. "I'm saving them from a world full of death and sin," he said. "I give them joy. They give me their lives, and I set their souls free and without pain."

Jesse's grip tightened, his finger pressed against the trigger guard. "Right. And I'm sure you're doing this out of the kindness of your heart and you get nothing in return?"

"I'm doing God's work, demon," Allweather snarled out. "He lead me to the flute. I was meant to have it, to do His work."

Jesse flinched, his eyes searching Allweather's a moment, to find out how he knew. But then he shook himself. Allweather was a God nut; he probably thought everyone was a demon. "This conversation is already getting boring, so we'll go with the easy way. Tell me how to free them," he demanded.

Allweather let out a laugh that was bordering on sadistic. "They're mine. They can't be freed. They can only die."

His expression twisting, Jesse just shook his head. "They're not yours anymore." He pulled the trigger. The gunshot sounded overloud in the small space, but nothing compared to the sound that followed: the ground all but shook with the force of six small bodies collapsing to the floor as one.

Jesse spun around, the gun dropping to the floor as his chest clenched. He fell to his knees, crawling to the first child. A little girl, her hair in pigtails, wearing a large t-shirt for pajamas. He grabbed at her neck and wrists, desperate for a pulse, but felt nothing as her wide eyes staring blankly out at him.

"No. No, c'mon." He grabbed the next child, a boy, by the shoulders and gave him a shake. "He's dead. You're safe, you're free."

He went from body to body, each of them limp, lifeless, staring in the candlelight. Cringing away, he sat flush against the wall, staring at the scene. His chest was the only thing that moved, his breaths short and fast.

He killed them. He killed them all.


	24. Deleted Scene: Smoke Rings in the Dark

"Yeah," Jesse said lightly, though his chest felt tight. "You're beginning to make a habit of that."

Though his face was already pressed into the warm skin, Ben made a more deliberate move to kiss Jesse's shoulder, his palm opening up to rest on Jesse's chest. "Forgive me?"

Swallowing, Jesse nodded before saying, "'Course, mate. Don't worry about it."

Ben nodded in answer, finally letting his eyes fall closed. He felt so tired, but somehow his body wasn't quite ready to let him sleep. Maybe it was the coffee's fault, he didn't know, but the warm body against his was enough to dull the tension in his head and heart.

Claire had been quiet through the whole murmured conversation, slipping into a sports bra and shorts, earbuds from the player in her ears-but not turned on. The soft words acted like codine to her emotional system, but she still didn't say anything. Just gave them both a soft adoring smile-whether they saw it or not-and slipped out the door.

Ben heard the click of the door shutting and turning his head to look back, finding Claire gone. He had hoped that maybe she would change her mind between the bag and the door, but it seemed she was determined to go. He tried not to concentrate too much on the possibility that she was still angry at him, or off to go study with Jacob.

"If you're still tired, I'll shut up and let you sleep," Ben said against Jesse's shoulder.

"A bit. You should be sleeping anyway," Jesse said, though he slid his hand over Ben's to show he wasn't angry. And he wasn't; the emotions going through him were a lot more complicated. The little touch was enough to further ease the tension in him, but Ben knew deep down that something was wrong. Jesse had seemed uneasy ever since they left Vegas, but for very different reasons than his.

"Still buzzed from the caffeine pills I took on stake-out," he murmured, shifting his hand out beneath Jesse's so that he could cover it instead and thread their fingers together. "You thinkin' 'bout what Lucas said?"

Jesse could feel his heartbeat speed up under his hand. "Well I wasn't before you said that," he teased. "It's nothing; don't worry about it."

That was enough to have Ben scoffing lightly. "Didn't look like nothin'. You looked two seconds away from shitting yourself back there. Luke went as far as warning me that you might be shady."

"Shit," Jesse breathed. That had been exactly the thing he'd wanted to avoid. "I just... I don't like the idea of him looking into stuff that might be me. It could get others looking into it, too."

"That's a risk we gotta take if we wanna know what these things are," Ben said quietly, gently pulling his hand free and moving to roll Jesse onto his back. "But you gotta be cool, man. Shaking like a leaf is only gonna set off warning bells. I covered our bases so we should be fine, but don't try to give him anything else to focus on, yeah?"

Despite himself, Jesse's eyes widened slightly before he said, "Yeah, okay. I'll try to get better at that."

Ben didn't like the look in Jesse's eyes at his words, but he pushed down the creeping sense of suspicion. Jesse was just nervous. It was understandable. He brought his hand up to the other man's chest again, moving in smoothing circles. "I wouldda figured you a pro at that, given the givens."

Jesse concentrated on Ben's touch, his eyes traveling down to his chest. "Don't need to be good at lying when everyone believes whatever you say."

"Can't be much different though, can it?" Ben asked, genuinely curious. He watched Jesse's reaction to his touch and fought off the urge to take it farther; he only meant to comfort him, even if it did feel good as a result.

"It is with hunters," he said, still studying Ben's hand. "They're trained to notice things that feel strange. Usually I just put a little power behind a lie, and people just shrug off any disquiet they feel. Can't risk that with hunters."

Ben's brows furrowed slightly. "Aside from me'n Claire, how many hunters have you met?"

"I've been found twice by hunters," Jesse said, not realizing his voice had gotten quieter. "Both times it was because they noticed something off in the towns I was in, from the way my mind worked with lies then. I've got more control now. Only really have to worry about slipping up in front of the wrong people. Like I did with you."

Unease settled in his head and for a moment, Ben's hand stilled. It was a lot of new information; Ben had seen Jesse work his mojo over individuals, but never whole towns. As for the slip-up with him... he didn't want to think about it.

"You'll get better with practice," he said after a moment, his hand moving again and trailing along the span of his chest from shoulder to shoulder before drifting lower.

The touches felt really good, and Jesse didn't object to the direction they headed, but it didn't stop his mind from working. "But how'm I supposed to practice _not_ doing something?"

"I was talking more about learning how to lie better," Ben said slowly. "But s'far as your powers are concerned... having better self-control will help. Learning not to rely on them will help. They're useful as hell, don't get me wrong, and they're a part of you so I'm not sayin' deny yourself what you are, but don't let 'em control you."

Jesse bristled. "I don't. I've got them under control."

_Except when you don't,_ Ben thought, but he didn't dare say it aloud. He didn't want to fight with Jesse, not after the night he'd had. "We should play poker more," he said, hoping to steer the topic away. "That'll help. And when you get good, we'll make it strip poker."

Mollified, Jesse allowed himself a grin. "Why's it always gotta be sex, sex, sex with you?"

That was enough to pull a small, breathless laugh from Ben. "Oh yeah, it's all me. I'm the one who blurred the lines from the get-go."

"Aw c'mon, mate, you know you needed to get laid," Jesse whined happily. "I was just helping things along."

"Uh-huh," Ben muttered, playfully flat as he leaned over so he was nearly nose-to-nose with Jesse. "Except that I'm a lot more patient than you. I didn't mind waiting. Not that I didn't enjoy the show."

Jesse lifted his head and captured Ben's mouth with his. His hand gripped the back of Ben's neck as he deepened the kiss hungrily. He drew it out for a while before pulling back, a little breathless. "Why wait for something good?"

"Makes it all the better when you get it," came the rumbled response. Ben slid his hand just beneath the elastic of Jesse's boxers but didn't take it any further, drawing nonsense symbols with his fingertips. "That's always been my favorite part."

Doing his best to ignore the electrical pulse of Ben's touch against his skin, Jesse huffed. "You and Claire, always with the teasing. If it weren't for me, I doubt you two would've ever sealed the deal."

"Dunno 'bout that," Ben said, slow and warm. He left it at that, though, not wanting to give Jesse reason to feel left out or jealous. In truth, he'd already started caring for Claire by the time they first met Jesse, but Ben definitely felt a spark for the other man a lot earlier. The Madison trip had pretty much sealed the deal. For a moment, memories of Jesse fucking the brunette in the hotel filled his mind, quickly replaced by watching him with Claire, then the first-person perspective of looking down into his blissed-out face back in the hotel in Vegas. Ben felt fire flooding through his veins and exhaustion starting to fade.

"I kissed you first," he said, inching close enough to press into Jesse's hip.

"When you were drunk," Jesse pointed out, trying to pay no mind to Ben's closeness. "That doesn't count."

"Pretty sure I kissed you first when I was sober, too," Ben replied, turning his head enough to speak directly into Jesse's ear as his hand slid fully past his boxers. "Right after I told you to guide me into Claire."

Jesse's breath caught, for a number of reasons, his hand twisting in the bedsheets. "Yeah, I remember," he breathed. Then, deciding to prove his own point, Jesse rolled on top of Ben, pinning him with a kiss and straddling his leg so he could grind against Ben's hand and thigh. The new angle was surprising, but the weight only doubled up his need. Pulling his hand free, he slid it around to Jesse's back and shoved the boxers midway down his hips, gripping his left cheek as he gave an answering thrust. With a rumbled groan, Jesse thrust his tongue past Ben's lips, a hand coming up to twist in his hair. His hips thrust a long, slow beat, the friction streaming pleasure through him.

The way his body moved above him nearly sent Ben into sensory overload and he groaned deeply in response, tipping his head back into the hand twisting his hair as his fingers indented Jesse's ass. It felt so good, letting someone else take the lead and not having to think. Jesse knew what he wanted, and Ben was more than willing to provide it for him. But the pressure against his cock wasn't enough to satisfy. He wanted more. Breaking the kiss, Ben nipped at Jesse's jaw and canted up into the other man's next thrust.

"You want me?" he breathed, letting his fingers drift farther inward.

Every inch of him wanted to scream 'yes' but Jesse just grinned. "How'd you guess?"

"Well, the biggest clue is gonna leave a bruise on my hip," Ben chuckled, trailing his lips and tongue down to the hollow of Jesse's throat. The humor easily muted at the oncoming rush of desire that surfaced in his mind, along with nerves. "Claire's not gonna be gone long, y'know."

Jesse gave a chuckle before shifting, moving his way down Ben's body. "What happened to waiting and being patient, huh?" he said, pausing to nip lightly at Ben's pec. Ben inhaled sharp and shallowly.

"Time and place for it." The movement forced his hand to leave and trail up Jesse's back, following the dip of his spine. "I want you to myself for a bit."

Only giving a smile in return, Jesse wasted no time moving down between Ben's legs. Ben watched him, his pulse hammering in his ears at the realization of his intention. Then Jesse hooked his fingers over Ben's shorts, pulling them just low enough to free his erection. Jesse's heart gave a little nervous leap, but he was determined. His hand circling the base, Jesse's eyes were on Ben as he licked across the top of his head.

Ben's jaw went slack in response, his hands moving off into the sheets and twisting up in them as he fought the urge to move. He'd been no stranger to getting head, but he'd never once thought Jesse would ever cross that line with him.

Watching the response sent a quiver through Jesse. Twisting his hand, he took the plunge, sliding his lips over Ben's head. Ben moaned in response, his right hand moving to slide up through the back of Jesse's hair. For the hundredth time, he wished it was just a little bit longer, wanting so desperately to twist his fingers up in it and hold on fast.

"_Fuck,_ Jess," he gasped, his hips arching out of reflex.

Humming in pleasure, Jesse dipped his head lower, tentatively exploring the feel of Ben in his mouth. Instinctively, his tongue curled around the shaft, putting pressure on the underside as he brought his fist up to meet his lips. Ben's hand left his hair to grasp at his shoulder instead, once again arching up into the wet heat as bliss shot through him. For a moment he struggled with the urge to put his hands on the back of Jesse's head and thrust into oblivion, but he had a feeling that that might be a horrible way to introduce him to this sort of thing. He certainly didn't want him to stop.

Ben licked his lips and let his head loll off to the side, watching through hooded eyes as his hips lifted into the movement. "Fuck yeah, just like that. Keep goin'."

A flush of heat ran through Jesse at the praise and he dipped his head lower, taking Ben in until he hit his throat and it suddenly convulsed. Ben gasped, his eyes screwing shut as he moved his hand once again back in the bed sheets. Stopping the urge to pull back completely, Jesse eased back some; baby steps, he told himself. To make up for it, he stroked his hand up, his cheeks going hollow.

It was getting decidedly harder to breathe and keep still at the same time with every new trick Jesse pulled. Somewhere in the back of his mind Ben catalogued what Jesse was doing to him; not only because of how amazing it was but also because he knew without being told that Jesse must've enjoyed them. That thought was enough to spark a fantastic idea, but he bit it back. _Too distracting. Maybe next time._

"_God,_ I- _fuck,_" a groan broke through his words as his shoulders arched off the bed. "Yeah, that's- _oh god,_ Jess, don't stop."

Jesse gave a groan, his head spinning. He'd had no idea how good hearing Ben react to him would feel. Unable to help it, Jesse took his own cock in hand as he upped his pace, his mouth sliding eagerly along Ben's length and his hand rising to meet it with each dip.

The sudden evenness of his dips had Ben's eyes opening, and when he caught the movement of Jesse's hand it was enough to send his prior concerns out the window. He knew what he wanted.

"C'm'up here" he instructed, his voice a deep rumble in his chest. "I wanna do that."

Jesse hesitated, enjoying watching Ben's reaction. But the thought of Ben's hot mouth on his cock was enough of an incentive. Pulling back, he slid around on his side. Not even bothering to wait for Ben to move into place, he grabbed his ass and drove his mouth back onto his cock.

The extra enthusiasm pulled another deep moan out of Ben and for a moment he didn't move, his whole body curling toward the source of pleasure and his eyes closing. When he opened them again the sight alone was enough to pull out another noise, but instead of focusing on it he curled his fist around Jesse's cock, stroking it in time with his own movements.

"You are so fucking hot," Ben rasped. "D'you know that? I am fighting off the urge to just fuck into that perfect mouth of yours, it's killin' me."

Giving his own groan, Jesse's hips rocked into Ben's touch. Hollowing his cheeks, Jesse pulled back enough to swirl his tongue around Ben's tip before sinking back down.

"Yeah," he moaned, his hand twisting into the next few tugs. "God, so fucking perfect. Like you were made for it. _Fuck._ Look at me."

In dizzy shock, Jesse pulled back to look down at Ben, his hand still working along his length. Ben met his eyes with a lusty smile, his thumb circling the tip of Jesse's cock.

"Just wanted to burn this behind your eyelids," he explained in a tone to match his look, before promptly sliding his lips over the head, his hand sliding over his hip and down to clutch his ass as he bobbed down as deeply as he could go.

Jesse's mouth fell open in a high gasp that ended in a moan. His hips snapped eagerly to the sensation, but he knew he had more to finish. Following Ben's lead, he pulled him in deep, his throat giving a shudder before he pulled back, sucking hard and falling into a rhythm.

The world narrowed entirely, everything fading away but sensation and pleasure. With one arm trapped against his side, Ben took the time to explore every spare bit of skin within reach with his free hand, riding the waves of bliss that expanded outward from what Jesse was doing to him. He could feel it pooling in his belly and he thrust toward it, hungry for more, for it to be faster. Somewhere in his lizard brain he craved hearing Jesse's response as well, and instinctively his fingers followed the tip in his spine all the way down the cleft of his ass, stroking with purpose.

Moaning around Ben, Jesse's tongue pressed hard against the length of Ben's cock as he dipped lower. He forced his throat to relax as he grabbed Ben's ass and pressed him in. Ben's hips arched on reflex as the pleasure rushed him all at once. When he finally remembered to move he doubled up his pace, focusing on the head as he slid one finger carefully into him.

Jesse's voice keened high in surprise and pleasure, his head bobbing faster, wanting to give Ben the good fuck he'd begged for. His answering moan signaled the reaction was the one Ben had wanted, and after a few deep thrusts of his hand and hips he added a second finger and twisted up hard.

Torn between pressing back against Ben's hand and the heat of his mouth, Jesse's hips began to rock desperately. At the same time, his mouth worked harder, more erratic. His head was spinning harder and all was just a series of sensation.

Ben felt the spirals of impending orgasm twisting up too fast and roughly pulled back, gasping against Jesse's thigh.

"_Close,_" he rasped, his fingers once again scissor-twisting up into the other man. "I'm- Jess, fuck, so good, let me fuck you, I wanna fuck you so bad."

Jesse pulled back with a gasp, a long line of saliva pulling from between him and Ben's cock. "_Yes_. Fuck, yes, please," he pleaded, shifting to his knees to put his ass up even as it pulled Ben's hand from him. Ben nearly face-planted in his scramble to get upright, grabbing Jesse's hips and pulling him in tight before guiding himself in. Heat and pressure hit him in a crushing wave of pleasure and Ben wasted no time thrusting, his body bowing over Jesse's as his hand circled around to find his cock.

Mouth open in shock, Jesse's hands scrambled desperately at the sheets. Ben seemed to burn deep inside him, a wrenching beautiful pain that pulled a whimper from him, only to get lost in the gasp as Ben took him in hand. "Ben, _Ben_, fuck, I-yes, _yes_!"

"_Yeah,_" Ben moaned out in agreement, his thrusts hard and fast, using the momentum to guide his hand as he beat Jesse off. He could feel the tiredness starting to seep into him, trying to slow him down, but he pushed through it, upping his pace. "_Take_ it."

With a high cry of need, Jesse fisted the sheets. Panting, he looked over his shoulder, meeting Ben's eyes with a hooded gaze. "Fill me. Fill every _inch_ of me," he groaned. Ben's hips snapped harder in answer, his thrusts and the movements of his hand falling temporarily out of sync as he tried to move faster. Being able to watch Jesse come back in Vegas had been amazing, but the new angle had Ben deeper, the resulting waves of bliss quickly gaining frequency and intensity.

"You love it when I fuck you, don't you?" he growled out, his hand twisting down to the head of Jesse's cock before jerking up and fast again.

"_Yes_," Jesse keened, his hips rolling back. He closed his eyes, riding the waves that crashed inside him. "So good. Love it, love it, love _you_."

It had been the last thing Ben had expected to hear chanted back to him, and the rush that hit him was enough to send him tumbling over the brink. With a hard bite on Jesse's shoulder he came, his thrusts going jerky and jarringly hard, pulling stuttered high noises from Jesse.

The heat surging inside him, the delicious sear of the bite, boiled up in such overwhelming sensation that when Ben's hand convulsively tightened around him, Jesse was gone. His hips jerked short, pinned as he was under Ben's weight, but the cry that came from him made it clear it wasn't too much trouble. The sudden clench was enough to pull a short, helpless moan from Ben, his forehead ducking against Jesse's left shoulder blade.

As he came down, Jesse collapsed bonelessly onto the bed, his body still twitching and shuddering. Ben slid off to the side, wrapping his arm around Jesse's chest and hitching a leg over his hip. His chest still rose and fell rapidly as he caught his breath, and after a few moments Ben nuzzled his face into his neck, his free hand moving through Jesse's hair. The embrace was nothing short of possessive.

Jesse happily nuzzled back against him, letting out a long sigh as he closed his eyes. It felt like the only way he existed at all was wrapped in Ben. "Y'know," he breathed, a smile in his voice. "You're getting pretty good at this."

Ben felt his face rapidly heat up in a blush, but thankfully Jesse wasn't looking directly at him. "Thank you?" he replied with a faint laugh. He nipped fondly at the shell of Jesse's ear. "Just... doin' what feels right."

"Fuck yes, you are," Jesse said with a laugh, turning his head to look at Ben. His expression quieted. So close up, all he could see of Ben were the details: the curve of his cheekbone, the light on every eyelash, the delicate way his eyes melded green, brown, and something like gold. It was overwhelming, but in a way Jesse didn't mind.

Ben met his gaze for a moment, then found himself flushing again. To make up for the strange awkwardness that settled in him, he bumped his nose lightly into Jesse's and then kissed him. The tiredness was finally starting to settle in, and it showed in the languidness of his mouth. Jesse returned the kiss with equal laxity before pulling back.

"Now you got to get some sleep, or Claire'll have both our asses."

"I'm surprisingly okay with that," Ben murmured, smiling some.

Jesse gave a long snort before nuzzling comfortably into Ben's chest. Ben kissed his temple and closed his eyes, humming in muted pleasure before finally drifting off to sleep.


	25. Extended Scene: Push & Pull

Claire chuckled lightly, taking the ice pack from his eye to toss on the counter. She met his eyes, intending to tilt his face gently to inspect the bruise, but instead was hit with the irresistible urge to kiss him. Which she did, then pulled back, smiling.

"Dunno how you both put up with me," he said quietly, partly in jest and partly out of self-depreciation.

Letting out a breath, Jesse shook his head. "Shut up. It's not like I haven't done worse," he said before tugging at the hem of Ben's shirt to pull it off. Even the small displacement brought out an ache in his shoulder and he visibly winced, having been unaware of it until that point. Apparently the swing-around Jacob had given him was harder than he thought.

"No comment," he replied, trying to inject some humor into the words.

_Me either._ Claire thought on the end of Ben's words, but she didn't say anything. Ben turned his head, expecting to see her leaving like she mentioned, but instead found her stripping her shirt over her head as well.

"Really missing Vegas right now," he said with a small, breathless laugh as his hands came down to work open his belt and slacks.

They took their time in the shower, focusing on Ben with intense care. Between the work of their hands and the steam of the shower, the aches and tension were pulled from his muscles, leaving behind supple bliss. Then Jesse's hand circled his hard cock.

"I think he's clean enough to get dirty again, don't you, Claire?" Jesse said, looking at the blond with a smile. She smiled crookedly from around Ben's shoulder, which she nipped at before answering.

"I think so, but maybe somewhere it won't kill all three of us."

Their conspiring was enough to leave him speechless so Ben just nodded dumbly, unable to stop the plaintiff little noise that escaped him when Jesse pulled back long enough to shut off the water. Between the two of them he was herded back into the bedroom again. _Their_ bedroom, with the king-sized bed he'd deliberately made sure to get them, though his motives at the time were a lot more pure. They were still mostly dripping wet as he felt hands gently pushing down on his shoulders, forcing him to sit on the end of the bed. Jesse immediately sat next to him, his fingers traveling lightly over Ben's cock. Claire primped the excess water from her hair as she settled on her knees in front of him, and raked her fingers along his thighs. Ben shivered as the dual sensations shot up through him, feeling a rush of blood in his groin.

"Tell us what you want," Jesse said, nipping at his earlobe. "Anything you want."

The words were enough to make him gasp, and Ben moved his left hand to the end of the bed and held on firmly. The possibilities were nearly endless, and all of them left him hungry.

"Anything I want," he repeated in a daze, his eyes falling on Claire's. They were hooded and already locked on his face, peeking up from where her cheek nuzzled the inside of his thigh. Her lips quirked up at the corners, and both brows arched expectantly.

"_Fuck_," he breathed out emphatically, his head all but swimming with sudden, undeniable need. For a second, he couldn't even find the words to put to the images that flooded his mind. "I... both of you." He swallowed around the parchness in his throat. "Mirroring each other." It sounded like nonsense out loud, but it was the only way it made sense to him. "So if you're on my left, she's on my right. I just wanna feel you both."

Running a finger up the underside of his cock and pulling another shiver out of Ben, Jesse gave a breath of a laugh. "Alright. Slide on back and get comfortable." Claire pushed herself up using Ben's thighs, her knee creased the bedsheets on his right as he sprawled out in the center.

As she settled on her side, the palm of her top hand followed the inside of his leg, adding the tiny twinge of raking nails, meeting Jesse's eyes with a spark of heat behind her own when she gripped the base of Ben's cock. Ben watched them with rapt attention, his jaw going slack at the wordless communication between them. It was by far the hottest thing he'd ever seen, and hardly anything had happened yet.

Jesse's smiled at the both of them, his leg slipping comfortably over Ben's before he dipped his head to nuzzle along his neck. Closing his mouth on Ben's pulse, Jesse raked his nails across Ben's chest as Claire's hand tightened and twisted smoothly toward his tip. Her hips rolled against his, pulled by her leg over the one Jesse didn't have a hold of.

For all that Ben wanted nothing more than to watch them, he knew without a doubt in his mind that he would come way too fast if he focused too much. His eyes fell closed and he concentrated on trying to keep from hyperventilating, his body instinctively pressing into every touch and caress.

His mouth working down to the dip in Ben's throat, Jesse ran his tongue down along it before pulling back. He couldn't help thinking back to earlier, and how it felt to know what he was doing to Ben. "How does it feel? You like feeling me and Claire, touching every part of you?" As if on cue, Claire's teeth lightly scraped the ridge of Ben's collarbone, and she picked up her pace. Ben moaned in response, his back arching while his shoulders pressed back into the mattress.

"Amazing," he panted. "So fucking good."

"Only that good?" Jesse teased, sinking lower to swirl his tongue around Ben's nipple before giving it a light bite. His hand traveled lower as well, past Claire's to cup Ben's balls. Ben's eyes flew open at the bite, but immediately closed again as Jesse's hand slid lower. Claire captured his leg with both of hers, squeezing and rutting against him at half the pace of her hand.

"You'll see when it's your turn," Ben said around a breathless laugh that quickly dissolved into another little gasp. His hands finally moved out from where they were trapped on either side of him, sliding into the curves of Jesse and Claire's backs. Smiling against his skin, Jesse gave Ben's balls a light squeeze before his expression turned a little thoughtful. Biting his bottom lip, he watched Ben's face carefully as he slid his hand further, along Ben's cleft, still slick from the shower. His finger paused at the entrance, then slowly pressed in.

Again Ben's eyes snapped open and his breath caught jaggedly, his toes curling in shock. Then Claire's hand circled up to the head of his cock again before dropping downward and he moaned helplessly, pleasure spiking throughout his body.

The sound pulled Claire's eyes up to Ben's face, her lip caught in her teeth at the sight. She looked at Jesse, then down the length of Ben's body as he tensed in pleasure. A hard ache twisted through her, translated by a noise of want and approval in the back of her throat, and the way she pumped him harder.

Ben's reaction made Jesse grind against his hip, a smile spreading on his lips as he pushed in deeper. "You like that, huh? Fuck, you're so hot, so _tight_," Jesse purred, nuzzling against Ben's abdomen as he built a slow, gentle rhythm.

With his legs trapped, Ben could barely rock into the sensations, even though he wanted desperately to. It didn't even occur to him to ask, he was so lost to it, but when he tried to slide his fingers farther down Claire's back to nestle into her slick cunt and found himself unable to reach, he finally managed to rasp out:

"Claire, c'm'up a bit. Don't stop," he corrected quickly, "I just- I wanna-"

"Wanna what?" she purred against his collarbone, her lips twitching there, open with her breath and the rhythm of her hand. Ben moaned again, a flush working across his face and downward to his clavicle.

"You're-" he gasped out, then swallowed and tried again. "I wanna touch you." His eyes dropped down the length of his body, catching sight of what they were both doing and trying desperately to thrust and press into both. "And I wanna... I wanna move, and you're-" Claire grinned against his skin, moving her hand to circle over the head of his cock at an achingly slower pace than before, but her thigh slacked over his, and slid away.

Jesse's breath came sharper at the words pulled from Ben, and his speed increased, loosening Ben with every thrust. Finally able to bring up at least one hip, Ben dug his heel into the mattress and canted first up into Claire's hand, then down against Jesse's. Once again he moaned helplessly, though louder this time, and the hand resting against the small of Claire's back dipped further down, his fingers pressing up into her, causing her to groan and turn her hips back to the touch, her grip suddenly tighter. The same desperate urge to touch Jesse was still there, but he knew what was coming and didn't dare try to distracted him.

"More," he begged.

Grinding against Ben's hip, Jesse grinned as he slowly slid in a second finger. He kept his rhythm up a big before scissoring exploratorily inside, trying to find the places Ben had found in him before.

The twists were enough to make him squirm, his body reacting before he had a chance to even register what was happening, and then suddenly it felt like every nerve in his body throbbed at once. Ben cried out, equal parts surprised and overwhelmed, his body arching almost straight off the bed.

"Oh _fuck,_ he keened. "I- _oh god_, wait, I-"

Jesse's hand paused immediately, looking up at Ben. His chest rose and fell rapidly with every strained breath as he fought himself back from the edge, his head tilting back until his neck was bent to the point of hurting. It wasn't enough.

"Please, don't let it end yet, please please, _please,_ I don't want it to stop, _please,_" he begged his body, oblivious to the fact that the words were not an inner monologue. "Feels so good, so good, so much, don't, don't, _don't,_" When it finally started to ebb a little he moaned again, grateful and so delirious. "_Fuck,_ I need-"

His smile widening, Jesse said, "What do you need, babe? Anything you want, you got it."

Somewhere under the haze in his mind, he knew his face must be beet red with all these demands for words from him. Words never came easily when he was in the throws of a good fuck, or if they did he always wondered just how coherent he managed to be. They drove him insane when they all came together like they did, but all he wanted was-

"_More,_" he begged again. "Want you, both of you, fuck me, _please,_ please, _please._"

"Yeah," Jesse growled, giving his hand a twist before sliding it out. "Go on and pin Claire to the bed. I'll be right behind you."

Hyper-aware of how hard her heart was pounding in that moment, and the fire coiling through her veins, Claire didn't even let Ben get a word out after that, having pushed up on an elbow to claim his mouth, the hand that'd been around his cock now pressed to his jaw to guide him toward her. He kissed her in abandon, arms circling around her waist as he rolled them both. From there it was only a slight shift and he was slipping into her, the wet heat all but engulfing him. Delirious terror temporarily flooded him and he broke the kiss with a gasp, burying his face into her neck as she tilted her chin back, inhaling sharply.

"Oh fuck, Claire, you're so fuckin' wet," he whimpered. Pain shot up through his bruised eye and was just enough to keep him from teetering over again, and as a way to distract himself further he slid his left hand up to her breast, rolling his palm into the supple flesh before tugging deftly at the sharp peak of her nipple. Claire caught her breath and her eyes squeezed shut briefly, before the breath released as an uneven moan.

Jesse paused just a moment to watch them, his cock giving a throb of need before he rolled off the bed. He scrambled in his bag for the KY he'd picked up in Las Vegas, readying himself as he settled in behind Ben. Gripping his hips, Jesse ever-so-slowly pressed against Ben's tight entrance. Claire's hands traveled the length of Ben's arms, finding both hands in order to lace their fingers, the weight pressing her arms into the mattress.

For a moment, Ben couldn't breathe. It was like being crowded in the bathroom again, but _a hundred times_ more intense and unbelievably amazing. When he finally could take another breath it was to let his jaw drop open soundlessly against Claire's shoulder. It was so much to take in at once; his mind couldn't even wrap around the endless loops of pleasure raking up and down his synapses.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck,_ I'm dying," he babbled, his body shuddering on the brink. "This- _oh god._"

Shifting to lean over, one hand pressed into the mattress to hold him up, Jesse twisted his other hand in Ben's hair. Lips brushing against Ben's, he said, "Then let's make it a good death." With a desperate kiss, Jesse started rocking his hips, which in turn forced Ben to thrust up into Claire. The sound he made in response was nothing short of primal. Claire dug her heels into the mattress, sucking in breath as she braced against them both, revelling in the hard change in his grip on a deep, undeniable level.

Ben felt like putty between them, unable to move his own body more than an inch in any direction. They owned every part of him, and he had no desire to do anything but surrender. Everything seemed to slow down until he was somehow hovering in that space of _so close so close so close,_ but not quite falling over. Without realizing it, he'd once again started begging in long, formless moans.

Breathing deep, Jesse's hands moved back to Ben's hips even as he stayed arched over him. "Yeah, yeah, you like that? So fucking _tight_," he groaned, his thrusts deepening. Claire craned her neck, drawing a line of hot kisses along Ben's jaw and throat. She whined and gasped against the still-damp skin, tasting the salt and shower water that clung to him. On a half-thought driven by dizzying desire, her legs curled around the back of Jesse's.

Claire's touch was a surprise jolt to his system, making Jesse's grip tighten. Ben, in turn, whimpered in response. It took tremendous effort to even lift his head to see what the cause was, but curiosity drove him and he certainly felt pressed more snugly against Claire at the shift in her legs. A few seconds later, his brain finally caught on to what had happened, his thoughts coming out in a nonsensical stream:

"You're fucking her through me, and she wants me and you and I do too, both of you, all of you, mine and yours and ours, oh _fuck,_ oh my _god,_ I'm so close, so close, want it to stop but never stop, kiss her, fuck me, love you, _fuck-!_"

Not about to argue, Jesse brought his mouth crashing down on Claire's over Ben's shoulder, his thrusts becoming more erratic. Her sharp whimper swallowed by the kiss, which she returned with a desperate ferocity, broken only by short cries and gasps with each push. Each stabbing thrust pressed into the deep pleasure center in his body, which doubled up with every thrust into Claire, and in a matter of moments Ben was coming undone, drowning in the overwhelming force of climax.

Jesse broke the kiss with a gasp as he felt the surprise surge of pressure of Ben clenching around him. His nails digging tight into Ben's skin, Jesse pounded hard, each thrust almost leaving Ben completely as he became more and more desperate for release. He felt something tighten from his groin to his throat, and with a strangled cry he came in Ben. And somehow, through all of it, Ben felt himself unable to come down. He felt very near to sobbing as the pleasure rode the fine line of pain, his vision going white behind his eyelids as the force of Jesse's thrusts continued to drive him into Claire.

The frenzy had jarred a little more breath out of her each time they both crashed down against her; mixing with the slick, hot friction that ground between her legs, the effect was dizzying. As they slowed, following the carnal sounds of their consecutive orgasms, Claire's breaths were hard and labored. Every nerve ending tingled, and every muscle _ached_ with pent up pleasure that catching her breath just barely kept from sliding over the edge.

Ben felt his consciousness floating dangerously close to darkness, but knew without a doubt that if he fell down on Claire she would be _very angry_ with him. Also, it was suffocatingly hot, and Jesse was leaning on him. Further, he hadn't heard Claire come.


	26. Episode 14: Jar of Hearts

Think before you shoot. Ben and Claire had ingrained that in him before he'd even picked up a gun. You couldn't take back a bullet so be certain before you pull the trigger.

He thought he understood what they meant. He was wrong.

Curled up against the wall, his eyes kept wandering to the six little bodies. Sometimes the flickering candlelight made it look like one moved, sending a spark of hope through his spine that reality quickly shattered.

He held Claire's phone in his hand. He didn't know how long he'd had it out now, unable to dial Ben's number. What would they say when they found out what he'd done? Could they even look at him the same? He wanted so desperately to call them, to have them tell him what to do to make it better, but what could they do? He was much more powerful than them, and he couldn't do anything. What he needed was someone even stronger than himself.

Someone stronger...

He scrabbled for his wallet, pulling out the card with a sigil on it. Inside he knew it was desperate, and probably dangerous, but what other choice did he have?

With Claire's trunk stockpile, Jesse had no problem getting oil of Abramelin and powdered Acacia. Bringing them back into the house, he set about putting things together in silent determination.

Kneeling on the floor before the chalk circle, he only hesitated a moment before setting the card on fire, the chalice glowing with the flames.

"Well, that was a lot sooner than I expected."

Jesse's cheeks burned with shame, but he pushed to his feet before facing the demon. "I want you to bring them back," he said, his voice low but eyes focused. The demon stood within the chalked circle, hands clasped behind his back and smiling. His eyes never left Jesse's.

"Normally I'm not supposed to be so helpful when someone is trying to set up a deal," he said crisply. "But seeing as your my son, I'll make an exception." His voice dropped to a whisper as he brought a hand up to the side of his mouth: "You'll have to be a little more specific than that."

Far from playful, Jesse just said, "The children here. I want to know if you can bring them back. Reverse their deaths."

"Of course I can," the demon said, still smiling as he tucked his hand behind his back again. "Under certain conditions."

Jesse swallowed. Ben had explained the whole deal-with-a-demon thing to him, and it seemed simple enough. Not that he'd paid much attention. He figured he'd never be stupid enough to get in that situation.

"Which are?"

"Tit for tat, son," he said, slowly strolling along the inside line of the circle. "If you want something, you have to offer something in return. Something I want."

"I've told you what I want," Jesse said, his tone short. "You tell me what you want and we'll talk from there."

The demon gave a small frown in answer. "Can't. You have to offer. That's how the rules work. I can't take your soul, given the circumstances. That's usually the automatic on-the-table counter-offer. So you make an offer, and I'll tell you if you're getting warmer."

Jesse scowled, uncertainty pooling in his stomach. It was easier to say no than to find something the demon would agree to. "I'll come in for another...endurance test," he finally said quietly. "This time I won't run."

The demon gave a theatrical shiver, then frowned. "Arctic. Try again."

Sliding his hands behind his back, Jesse gripped his wrist tightly. "I'll... I'll find that key you're looking for. The one to the doorway in the graveyard."

"Still cold, but getting warmer," the demon said, moving back to his starting point in the circle and starting around again.

"You've obviously got something in mind, so fucking out with it!" Jesse snapped. "Like you give a shit about protocol."

The demon smirked a little. "When you've existed as long as I have, the protocol stops being annoying and starts being how the way things work. Do you question gravity, or your inability to breathe water?" He came to a stop on Jesse's left, shoulder to shoulder with him but facing the opposite way.

"I'll give you a clue, but it won't be a very good one," he said after a pause, then looked to the side at him. "Cooperation."

With a hard glare, Jesse said, "I'm not signing up to be your slave, so forget about it." Pressing his lips together, his eyes darted to the side. "I'll agree to come whenever you call, though. I won't have to do whatever you're calling me for, but I'll have to hear you out."

The demon took a moment to consider the offer, studying Jesse's face critically. Then he smiled, flashing white, even teeth. He offered his hand wordlessly.

Jesse stared down at it, his heart doing double time. He'd thought there would be more bargaining. After a long pause, his eyes met the demon's. "And you can't hurt Ben and Claire. Not you, and not any of your minions."

The demon immediately withdrew his hand, frowning. "Now Jesse, that's not something I can promise. My people need to defend themselves, and if you keep attacking us, that wouldn't be at all fair, would it? And for six children? That's hardly a good trade."

"Alright. Then whenever you call me away, your people can't go anywhere near Ben and Claire," Jesse said, his voice firm. "They can defend themselves but they can't attack first. And I'm not budging on this one. I care more about them than a hundred children."

The demon's lips quirked in a short, brief smile. "Fine. You'll come whenever I call wherever you are, and while you're out I won't send anyone after your pets. Anything else?"

Jesse wished Ben and Claire were there now. They'd be able to guide him, help him avoid any loopholes. Of course, they'd probably have a few things to say about him making a deal in the first place. Swallowing, he said, "In exchange for you bringing these children back to life. Sounds like a fair deal to me."

Again, the demon presented his hand to Jesse. This time Jesse paused only a moment before taking it.

Lava erupted under Jesse's skin. He fell to his knees with a scream, the demon's iron grip the only thing keeping him from collapsing completely. Just when he was certain he would die burning from within, it stopped.

Breathing deep, he looked up at the demon in horror. "What did you do to me?"

"Insurance that I won't be ignored. I've only ever been able to get to you through your subconscious mind, and I've noticed a lot less of that lately." He gave Jesse a slightly pointed, annoyed look. "You can't avoid me forever, son. What you will do is what you were _born_ to do." He rubbed his hands together briefly. "Though I must say, I'm disappointed you think I'm out to make you my slave. I would never do such a thing to one of my own children."

"No, you'd do worse," Jesse snarled, getting unsteadily to his feet. "I wasn't born to do anything. I'll do whatever the fuck I want."

"Of course you will," the demon said, his tone sounding very much like he was saying it to humor him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've six little souls to find. See you soon."

Without so much as a whisper, the demon vanished. Jesse stood frozen to the spot, suddenly questioning everything he'd done, wanting to take it back. Just how much had he given away?

But then he heard a beautiful sound: six young mouths suddenly gasping for breath. His hands shaking, he dialed Ben's number as he knelt by the first confused child. "Ben. I found the kids; they're alright. Allweather's dead. Now what do I do?"

* * *

><p>Jesse hardly said two words through the whole process of burning Allweather's body and returning the kids to their homes. He was focused and solemn, and grateful that Ben, Claire, and Jacob were there to take care of things.<p>

The skies were just starting to lighten to gray when they stood in the hotel parking lot. There was no hanging around after this one; they'd have to split quick.

"I'd say it's been fun, but y'know," Jacob said with a wry smile, his body half-hidden by the open door of his Cadillac as he leaned sideways against the hood. "Y'got the flute thing handled?"

"Taken care of," Claire responded, lugging the last bag into the GTO's trunk. She didn't even bother to hide the fatigue in her tone-or to look up, for that matter.

There was a pause, then Jacob audibly patted the top of the hood as he looked between the three of them. "Drive safe, then. Happy hunting." Claire did look up then, and met his eyes for a brief, silent moment. Her lips pressed together and rolled, but she gave him a single, shallow nod before sliding into the car, muttering in answer as she did.

"Keep your head down."

Ben waited until Jesse had gotten into the back before slipping into the driver's seat without a word, shutting the door behind him. It was only after the Caddy had taken off down the road that he started off, immediately merging into the appropriate lane that would take them back onto the highway.

It wasn't five minutes before Jesse said, "I'm going to get some sleep. Long night. Wake me if you need me." He lay down on the seat, his back to them, very much doubting he'd nod off at all.

After about a half hour of silence, Claire glanced over her shoulder at Jesse's back, then across to Ben. She wet her lips with a bottle of Mountain Dew, then set it in her lap. "Think he's alright?"

Ben frowned and shook his head, taking a slow breath before letting it out. "If that was his first kill, no."

"It wasn't, though." She kept her voice low and sank down into the seat. "The nest in Milwaukee barely phased him."

"Those were vamps, though," Ben replied, casting a quick look in the rearview mirror. There was nobody on the road, of course; he was mostly looking at his sleeping friend. "Bit of a difference."

"Maybe," Claire sounded unconvinced when she finally answered. It was possible that ordinary - if extremely long-lived - looking Allweather would leave a more lasting impression than just ganking a bunch of monsters, she supposed. If that were his deal, she could look forward to the knot of worry in her gut kind of going away. "I'll never forget the first 'normal' man I had to put under."

Ben nodded in commiseration but remained silent, his left hand dropping to the bottom of the steering wheel while his right slid across the space between them, finding her hand.

"Plus he did it alone. Even with the vamps, we were there."

It was Claire's turn to silently nod, her fingers laced in the spaces between Ben's. She looked out the window, leaning her brow on it while she tried to ignore her thoughts. The silence stretched on for a few moments between them before Ben spoke again.

"He'll be all right, though," he said softly. "He's got us. We'll take care of him."

* * *

><p>When they'd finally escaped the heat wave of the South, Ben took the first exit off the highway and headed for a nearby hotel. They all needed a good night's rest, Jesse especially, and he wanted to take a couple days to work on the GTO while they started checking for leads on the demon again. It sucked not having a full garage at his disposal, but the nearby salvage yard was just as easy a place to work as any, and with the convenience of being able to locate any parts he could make off with for a decent price. It took about three hours to figure out just what all the GTO needed and to find all the parts he could before hunger started kicking in, and a quick chat with the salvage yard's owner gave him safe passage to return the following day so he could start working. He made sure to stop at a nearby burger joint to pick up dinner as he was passing through town.<p>

From the moment they walked into the new hotel room, Claire was already aware of another phantom smell, something that seemed to happen every three or four places they stopped. Usually she described it as mildly rotten, or stale, or 'organic' smelling, which usually meant some form of body odor. This time she was reminded of cooking cabbage, a meal she detested as a child. Rather than complain, she simply lit the lilac candle carried around in her duffel and opted to escape the room while it took effect. In the meantime, it turned out to be a gorgeous day, if a little on the hot side; Claire found herself pool-side, stretched on a towel, two-piece and laptop in place.

She heard her car's signature rumble roll up the parking lot hill and die in a space close to the pool's chain link fence, even over the music pumped from ear-buds that disappeared under her hair. The only sign that her attention had been grabbed from beneath reflective Aviators was a subtle lift of her chin, and a tired smile given to Ben when she saw him. Ben almost missed them altogether, but he had a natural habit of looking around him as he walked to take in potential escape routes and out-of-place things. Seeing Claire in a bikini was certainly out-of-place, though hardly in a bad way. He tossed her a wave as he disappeared into the building, intent on coming around through the back.

When he finally did emerge, the rhythmic sound of someone swimming laps hit his ears first. He looked down at Claire with a slight smirk on his lips.

"Multitasking at its finest, eh?"

"I don't get enough sun," she replied with a returned smirk, closing the laptop and setting it aside.

"I'll be sure to rub aloe all over your back when you burn for it," he quipped, his smirk turning into a smile as he dropped the brown paper sack into the space between her legs. "Brought lunch." Claire sat up from the back of the pool chair to take a peek inside.

"Smells good." She popped a fry in her mouth and pushed her glasses up into her hair, squinting up at Ben. "How's Beast doin'?"

"A tune-up should be plenty, but the shocks are lookin' a bit worse for wear. And that new A/C is gonna cost about $650 unless I can find a used one," Ben answered, adjusting where he stood so he could block the sun from Claire's gaze. She thanked him by feeding him a fry.

"New one's fine. I'll take care of that tonight," she promised. The idea of getting out for a bit of old, familiar stress relief had been planted the moment Claire spotted the bar down the street from the Holiday Inn. She needed to relieve some idiots of their money and blow off a little steam. He flashed her a approving, pleased smile at her answer.

"Shouldn't take me too long to do all of it. Couple hours for the tune-up, maybe four for the shocks. It's the A/C that'll be a bit tricky, I haven't put in one'a those since I was a kid." Claire smiled up at him, tired, but warm as the pavement in the sun.

"Nothing sexier than a grease-monkey," she teased with honesty, and pulled him down by the shirt for a quick kiss.

The splashes of swimming stopped as Jesse surfaced, wiping the water from his eyes to peer up at them. "Hey, is that food?" Without waiting for an answer, he hefted himself out of the pool, streaming water as he walked over. Ben quickly moved out of the way, partly to keep from getting wet and partly due to the sudden memory of pulling Jesse into the pool with him back at his mom's house. Even in a sour mood, Ben knew Jesse wouldn't pass up the opportunity if he had it.

"How's the water?" he asked conversationally, giving Jesse a none-too-subtle once-over and admiring all the bare skin. Meanwhile, Claire protected the food from thick falling water drops, pulling her legs away from the danger zone as well.

Jesse grinned, leaning down to grab his towel and running it through his hair before laying it across his shoulders. "Perfect. Takes the edge right off the heat."

The heat _was_ starting to get to Ben the longer he stood there, and with a quick crouch to drop a kiss on Claire's forehead he straightened again. "I'll go change, then. G'head and start without me, I'll be right back."

Claire habitually tracked Ben as he headed back inside, but handed Jesse a paper-wrapped burger at the same time. She squinted up at him, closing one eye against the glare of the sun. "Feelin' better?"

Jesse knew what she meant but shrugged it off. "Yeah, got a good sleep in the car, feeling all awake now. Just starving," he added, digging into the bag for fries.

She watched him for a moment, but decided against pushing-instead, she occupied her mouth with another fry.

After a mouthful of fries, he tore into the burger. "How's the sun treating you? You baked or fried yet?" he teased.

"Lightly sauteed." In truth, she couldn't tell _how_ done she was; the heat was messing with her judgement, and her shades had a tendency to distort the way she saw color.

"Don't make me hungrier; I'll be eating you next," he said, giving her a wink. Claire chuckled under her breath and proceeded to tear her burger into smaller portions.

"I probably taste like coconut oil and sweat, so enjoy."

Ben returned a few moments later, his hair pulled back and in trunks. The obvious farmer's tan was made a little too obvious in the bright sunlight, which even the sleeveless shirt couldn't take away from.

"Someone do my shoulders?" he asked, toting a little bottle of sunscreen.

"I got food in my hands but wait a few minutes and it'll be gone," Jesse said, smiling as he looked Ben up and down. "But from what I know, you're flexible enough to do your own shoulders." Ben immediately blushed. Claire rolled her eyes a bit, but went on eating.

"Workin' in the yard's got me a bit stiff," he mumbled. Claire nabbed the bottle from his hand and put it next to her hip so she could finish her last couple bites.

"Just sit and eat-you won't burn in five minutes."

Ben almost sat automatically, but for the fact that there wasn't anything in the immediate vicinity to sit on except her chair or Jesse's lap. He opted for her chair, giving her legs a little nudge to keep from sitting on them. Reaching into the bag for more fries, Jesse's expression grew thoughtful as they fell silent, his eyes focused on the middle distance as he ate.

"What'd you find while I was out?" Ben asked around a mouthful of french fries, looking to Claire.

"Nothing worth mentioning. _Yet_," she added the afterthought without looking up. "Gonna have to dig deeper."

His expression growing tired, Jesse couldn't quite bring himself to keep his mouth shut. "Y'know, the more we go looking, the more things are going to look back."

"They haven't _stopped_ looking since Maine, Jess," Claire reminded him quietly, tearing a small bite into a smaller one before it pressed between her lips and disappeared. "I'd just rather not be taken by surprise again."

Ben held back the sudden need to argue by taking a bite from his cheeseburger and thoroughly chewing it. He didn't want his motives to be psychoanalyzed the way they had been back in Chackbay.

"We can't just let them keep doing what they're doing," he said at last. "They're demons, going after people, and ruining their lives. There isn't a gray area here."

It was hard to argue with that, when they'd all seen the thralls. Still, other people weren't on the top of Jesse's worry list. Growing quiet, he grabbed some more fries. Meanwhile, Claire had finished eating, and dabbed out a few drops of sun screen to spread over Ben's shoulders.

"I'll call Lucas in a bit, see if he's got anything new."

* * *

><p>Even at 3 AM, the streets were sweltering, waves of heat pouring upwards off the asphalt. Which meant everyone was piled in the club, where the air conditioning at least made the heat drier. The smokers hovered around the doorway like moths, making escaping the club like squeezing through a smokey birth canal.<p>

Which made it really easy to notice when a little, hot thing in a little, hot dress managed to make it through.

One smoker was set slightly away from the crowd, not seeming to mind the thin sheen of sweat that tightened his t-shirt to his skin. His eyes immediately flickered to the brunette as she clicked along in her stilettos and silver sequined dress that caught the light from the door. As she headed for the corner, he glanced back at the crowded doorway then moved to follow, flicking his cigarette aside.

"Hey, darlin'," he called, his long stride making catching up to her pretty easy. "You got the time?"

The girl's dark eyes snapped to her side, the space there now occupied by something she obviously had no intention of entertaining, by the look on her face. Her heels kept clicking in long, scissoring strides that off-set the swing of her arms and long, twitching hair. She shook her head decisively, and set her eyes forward.

"Time to fuck-off, pal."

"Hey now, that's not polite," the man said, taking a couple longer steps before turning around to face her as he walked backwards. "I figured that if you're in such a hurry, you gotta know the time. Where you off to, sweetheart?"

She gave him a scathing look, one that clearly conveyed how thick she thought he was if he wasn't getting her blatant hint (which was really more of a neon stop sign). The expression turned more annoyed as she tried to walk around him, barely granting him the courtesy of eye-contact as she said over her shoulder: "Other places."

"Must not be important places if you're not even worried about the time. C'mon, stay around a while," he said, grabbing her shoulder, but she harshly rolled away from the touch, and stopped walking only to give him a very clear, warning glare.

"Are you _dense_?" she snapped at him, planting a palm hard on his chest for a short shove away. "I said _Fuck. Off._"

The man gave a laugh, quickly closing the short distance. "See, you say that, but from your dress I keep hearing _Fuck me_," he said, grabbing her ass and pulling her tight against him. Where there had been heated irritation in her eyes before, now there was cold, dangerous hatred.

"Oh is _that_ what it's saying," the young woman's voice had lowered. It was dark and even toned, not sharp and potent as her impulsive rejections had been.

"_Screaming_ it," he said, his smile twisting. Lifting her slightly, he turned and pressed her hard against the wall, leaning down towards her neck. "Promise you'll like it."

Despite the seemingly effective way he had her pinned with her hands defensively circling his wrists, _something_ still pushed back against his hold on the wall. Something smooth and strong, and accompanied by the subtle sound of creaking bone and stretched leather.

Giant, dark-hued wings were spreading from between the woman's shoulder blades, unfolding to a massive span and bracing against the brick. Before he had a chance to get passed the shock and do something quick like _scream_, she clamped a long, bony claw over the entirety of his face, and grinned with a mouth full of uneven, needled teeth.

"I think I will."

His eyes desperately wide between her unnatural fingers, the man's scream muffled completely under her palm, ending in a bony crunch.

* * *

><p>There was a definite sunburn blooming on Ben's skin by the time he made it back to the hotel that afternoon, but at least the GTO was finished. He didn't even feel a single bump on the drive back, which was saying something considering how bad it had been before. He couldn't wait to see the look on Claire's face when she got behind the wheel again.<p>

Swiping the key through the electronic lock, Ben sighed in relief as the cool hotel air hit him all at once.

Laid out on the bed, his head hanging upside down off the end, Jesse rolled over as soon as Ben was through the door. "_Finally_," he said, propping up on his elbows. "We have a car again?"

Claire bit back a subtle smirk at Jesse's enthusiasm, but turned an expectant look at Ben, away from her laptop screen on the table. Ben tugged out the keys and gave them an underhand toss in her direction.

"Purrs like a kitten," he replied. "Now with air conditioning!"

Jesse lifted a fist in victory. "Yes. You get treated special tonight." Claire was silent in her smile, but it was overly-warm and toned the same color as Jesse's words. She looked back at the screen, though, having stopped in the middle of something that caught her eye when Ben came back.

Ben's grin was easy and bright at the praise. He rubbed weakly at his arms and the scorch across the bridge of his nose, then ran his hand through his hair. "You guys eaten yet? I'm starving."

Sticking out his tongue, Jesse shook his head. "Claire's been looking up dead people. Don't know if my stomach's ready for food."

That piqued Ben's interest. "Dead people?" he asked, brows arched in Claire's direction.

"Pieces of them," she finally answered, a little distractedly. "To be exact. Apparently scattered around this one town, like they rained from clouds. No airplane crashes or explosions, either."

Ben crossed over to where she was sitting, pulling up a chair and settling in next to her to see. "Multiple bodies, or just one? Or did they not release the data yet?"

"At least four," she answered, and tilted the screen toward him to see. Ben frowned. It was a testament to his lifestyle that the gruesomeness didn't even phase him. His head immediately started running through what might have done it.

"So where we goin?"

"Little town outside Birmingham," Claire said. She got up from the table and crossed to the bed, swatting Jesse's ass as a way to get him off her tee shirt he was laying on.

"Which one?" Ben asked, getting back up to get his own laptop. "Indiana, Alabama, Iowa, Michigan...?"

"Let's just say I'm glad we have A/C now," Claire responded, pulling her shirt over her swimsuit top.

Jesse groaned. "You people need to get it together. Take jobs where it's cool in the summer, and where it's warm in the winter. Not the other way around."

"And you complain like a six year old," Claire came back matter-of-factly, but with a playful pinch to his backside. She arched her brows at him. "Unless _you'd_ like to do some looking around for things further north. I wouldn't mind."

Ben looked between the two of them briefly, frowning. "If you guys would rather head up, I can handle the case and you can come back for me when it's through." Claire just looked at him, making her deadpan expression as obvious as she could.

"What?" Ben shot back, his expression souring slightly. "I can hunt just as well alone, and Lord knows the trail for that bastard demon who came after my sister is starting to go cold, but I don't wanna just leave this case unsolved."

"We're not leaving you," Jesse said matter-of-factly, plucking at the covers. Claire just took a deep breath and pushed her urge to argue back down. Ben had misunderstood her look, but there was no point in getting into it. Jesse had put the bottom line out there, and it was time to go.

"I'll get things settled with the front desk and meet you guys out front," she said, stepping into her shorts and flip flops before heading out the door.

Ben tracked her out the door before looking back at Jesse, frowning a little as he closed Claire's laptop and stuck it into her bag, then did the same with his. Rolling off the bed, Jesse hesitated a moment before going to the bathroom to pack up the toiletries.

"What's the big deal?" Ben finally called back, hoisting up both bags over his shoulders as he faced the bathroom. He wasn't angry, but there was a layer of annoyance in his voice. "It's not like I'd be going anywhere or not coming back. You would know where I am, and I'd call. Hell, you could just apparate onto my shoulders at the drop of a hat."

"If I knew where you were, yeah," Jesse said, trying to keep his voice calm even as he tensed. He grabbed Claire's shampoo from the shower. "If you were up shit creek without a paddle, I wouldn't know where to go."

Ben opened his mouth to argue, then quickly closed it and scowled at the floor, his shoulders slumping.

"Why don't you trust me?" he said in a low voice.

Hands full of ziplocs, Jesse came to the doorway. "Don't pull that. I trust you more than I've trusted anyone, ever. I'm just not leaving you again."

There was so many different emotions pressed into his words that Ben immediately felt the conflict in him dissolve. He could tell that Jesse still felt guilt for having ran off back in Chackbay, nevermind their forced separations. Ben almost argued about his having found them while they were fleeing to Canada, but the words died before they got to his throat.

"C'mon. Claire'll wonder where we are if we don't get out to the car fast enough," he mumbled quietly, going back to grab up Jesse's bag.

* * *

><p>The air conditioning worked overtime in places like this: the Coroner's office and Morgue in the sublevels of a Birmingham hospital. It made the air oddly heavy, like being in a meat locker without the smell. And it was always just a little too quiet.<p>

Claire, posing as Federal Agent Alice Halstead, stood with her hands lightly pushed into the pockets of her fitted charcoal trousers at the foot of a storage unit in the Morgue. Her hair sleeked back into a straight, no nonsense ponytail, and a pair of narrow glasses sat on her nose, filtering looks between Jesse and the Assistant Coroner who had escorted them in.

Feeling more comfortable in his role as Federal Agent James Spencer than he had the last time he had to put on the suit, Jesse was already leaning over the body bag as the coroner unzipped it. Turned out it was a bad idea.

"Wow. You...you weren't kidding when you said it looked like an animal attack." He was listing slightly to one side.

"And this isn't even all of it," the coroner replied, moving off to the side to pull up two plastic bins, one after the other. Claire discreetly rubbed her mouth with her palm in a show of thought, but in practicality, it put the smell of her lotion under her nose instead of the foulness that rose from the bags.

"Where were they found?" she asked cooly after clearing her throat.

The coroner leaned back against a nearby counter, his lips twisted in a wry smile. "Bin number one's content was found in a residential pool three streets down and two streets over; bin number two in a trail across two forth-floor patios at an apartment complex in the opposite direction. The torso and head were in an alley by The Furnace on 28th."

"This is all one man?" Jesse asked, his face pale.

The coroner nodded. "And he's not the first. I've got two others in deep freeze that are a lot less identifiable."

"How long ago were _they_ found?" Claire asked, finally deciding to wiggle on the pair of latex gloves she'd been handed at the door. She carefully grabbed what remained of a left hand and wrist, complete with wedding ring, up for further examination. It was missing two fingers, clearly bitten off by something-but the tearing at the wrist looked like a young sapling that'd been yanked at the base. Something had _torn_ this man apart, as well as snacked on him.

She was unable to keep her stomach from turning at the thought. Jesse watched, unable to turn away even though each revealed body part made him feel dizzier.

"Simon Mills was..." the coroner turned to open up the file on the computer, typing in a long string of keys before answering. "End of last month, and Jorge Garcia-Mendez last week."

Claire nodded, replacing the hand back on the roll-out gurney. "And all of them, fresh, I assume."

"The first one's parts were still bleeding when they found him," the coroner replied.

"...Right." Jesse turned to the coroner and, more importantly, away from the bag. "The marks on the bodies at all familiar to weapons or animal teeth?"

"Nothing I've ever seen before," the coroner said, looking between the two of them. "I mean, I've got a theory."

"Humor us," Claire added smoothly, and with a quick glance toward Jesse.

"Well I mean, it's..." he laughed. "Either of you ever see that show _Dexter?_"

Despite his lingering queasiness, Jesse raised an eyebrow. "Yeah... You think it's a psychopathic cop from Miami?" Claire tried her best not to look completely confused.

"Well no, but I mean... These guys weren't exactly the bright future of America. Mills was a pedophile on parole, and Garcia-Mendez was a suspected hitman they could never get charges to stick to. As for our latest, Warner had harassment charges on file from an ex-girlfriend, but I wouldn't be surprised if there was more. Our killer seems to think himself a vigilante."

"Besides the body-drops, you find any crime scenes?" That'd be a big clue, Claire thought. Whatever did this would've left a nice, wide mural of blood.

"Yeah, but you'll be just as baffled as our regulars are," the coroner answered. He typed in a few more things on the computer's keyboard before the printer started spitting out a colored photograph. He brought it over for the two of them. On it was an officer, who was holding a feather by the quill. Except the quill was as thick as a tree branch, and when held at waist-level the tip of the feather was as tall as he was.

"And that's our tallest officer. He's 6'3"."

Claire looked at the photograph without hiding the bafflement on her expression. "That's...something you don't see everyday..." _Well-not a serial killer,_ she thought to herself, though the size of that feather confirmed her earlier thought. Whatever they were dealing with, it was big enough to pull a man apart.

"Yeah, tell me about it. I don't even think ostrich feathers are that big, nevermind what the hell they'd be doin' in Arlington of all places." The coroner shifted on his feet.

"It's gotta be synthetic," Jesse said, even as his mind went through flashes of imagined creatures eviscerating a man. At least it was a clue. "Might not even be connected to the killings."

"Do you have them here?" Claire asked, unable to help herself from looking around. She figured it'd be difficult to miss something like that.

"Nah, we sent it out to the lab to have it tested," the coroner said, "but it's definitely real. There were wisps and everything."

"No results yet, I take it?" 'Agent Halstead' injected, peeling off her gloves, one by one. She was already itching to get back and look these things up.

The coroner looked deeply chagrined. "We've ran it through all the local indigenous species and there hasn't been a match yet, so we had to get in touch with the nearby zoo." Claire just looked at Jesse for a moment, then turned her attention back to the gentleman in the lab coat.

"Give us a call when you hear back, then?" she said with a quiet authority, already making ready to leave.

Jesse just nodded at him before turning to follow Claire.

"Sure thing!" he called back. "Let's hope we don't find another one in the meantime though, right?"

* * *

><p>The walk between the car and the hotel room was enough to remind them both that professional type clothing was not Southern Summer friendly. Claire felt like she was wrapped with a thin layer of film by the time the room's AC hit her like a wave of water, enough that she let out a very relieved breath. Ben was sitting in front of his monitor without a shirt on, hair pulled back with a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. He looked up immediately.

"Hey, how'd it go?"

"Our suspect is the Bird Man," Jesse said, instantly stripping off his dress shoes and sweaty socks. "What've you been doing in front of the computer that's got you so sweaty? Oh wait. Look who I'm talking to." Jesse gave him a grin as he took off his button-down. Claire's soundless chuckle disappeared in her breath as she stripped off her blazer and hung it up.

"It's hot, shut up," Ben snarked back, his sunburned cheeks flaring an even darker red. "A Bird Man? The hell are you talkin' about?"

"Best guess, so far," Claire injected, replacing the silk undershirt with a white wife-beater to keep the heat out. "Seriously looks like a pterodactyl got a'hold of these guys." She wiggled out of the suit trousers and wandered across the room, effectively claiming the air conditioning vent for herself. "If pterodactyls had building-sized feathers."

"'Course our Bird Man has it in his head he's The Falcon or something. Apparently all the guys he's tearing to shreds are criminals. Kind of had it coming," Jesse said, sitting down. "What kind of creature gives a damn about that?"

"Well tricksters are out," Ben said solemnly, tracking Claire with his eyes and all but forgetting about his open internet window. "Anything they make tends to dissolve pretty quick."

Claire just leaned against the large window air conditioner, her arms folded loosely over her chest. She returned Ben's look with one of uncertainty, laced with a very real anxiety. "I have no idea... Maybe, retribution beasts? Wouldn't put vengeful ghosts out of the picture, though those don't usually come with feathers."

"Don't think I've heard of retribution _beasts_ before..." Ben replied, chewing viciously at his lower lip. "I mean, most beasts just eat things. Never heard of dismemberment for fun and profit."

"That's a thought," Jesse said, tilting his head. "Maybe some cop found out you could summon up nasty critters to take out the people who won't stay behind bars." Claire nodded after a minute, looking to Jesse. That sounded as good a lead to check out as any.

Ben nodded, adjusting his monitor and running a few phrases through his search engines. "I'll see what I can find."

Jesse let out a sigh but held back the complaint. At least he wasn't the one who had to do the research. "Alright if I flip on a movie while you're at it?"

"Yeah sure, go for it," Ben answered, standing up and getting his headphones before resettling again. Claire bumped off the A/C and rounded the table in order to lean a newly-chilled hip against Ben's shoulder, looking down at his computer to see what, if anything, they had a leg up on.

Jesse went through two movies before Ben finally spoke up. "So I've got three feather beasts so far, but I've _never_ heard of them being real."

Flipping off the TV, Jesse got up to peer over Ben's shoulder. "Alright, who're the contestants?"

"There's the Furies," his voice changed as he started reading the article: "'Goddesses of vengeance, they are sometimes depicted as having huge wings. The Furies are cruel, but are also renowned for being very fair. So that's debatable. There's also sphinxes, but they haven't really been seen on this side of the Atlantic, so I really doubt it. The next possible option would be harpies."

"Harpies," Claire's brow furrowed, vaguely remembering a cartoon movie she'd seen as a child where they were mentioned, but for the life of her, couldn't remember the reference. "What's their story?"

"A lot of the lore between harpies and sirens kind of blur, but legend goes they're a little like the antithesis of Valkries because they'd carry people to the Underworld but to torture them first. They also were sent to rob food from a dude Zeus was pissed at."

"Well these guys didn't carry anyone to the Underworld. They left most of the bits here. We saw," Jesse added with a grimace.

"Well, it's definitely a little more plausible than the Furies," Ben hummed, his face pinched in thought as he continued to read the article silently. Claire rolled her lips in thought, just piecing everything together before her eyes flicked up to them both.

"We _could_ run down a list of repeat offenders in the area and try to keep track of _all of them_..." her tone signified how unconvinced she was of that particular plan. "Or...we bait a trap."

Jesse raised his eyebrows. "How do we do that? All we know is that they go after assholes."

Claire nodded succinctly. "Which one of you wants to be the asshole?"

Pointing at Ben, Jesse said, "Since we've got a natural here, might as well go for it."

Ben bristled slightly, but managed not to verbally respond to the jibe. "I've already gotten punched in the face once this week. Pass."

"These things aren't looking to punch you in the face, they're looking to rip it off. Besides, all bruised like that, you already look the part of an asshole," Jesse said, unable to hold back a smile. "Besides, what exactly are we going to do? Neither of us is about to go fondle a couple of kiddies."

"No kiddies, no strangers..." Claire made an unenthusiastic, but dutiful face, and pointed to herself with two thumbs. Ben frowned a little, liking the idea less and less by the minute.

"No," Ben said stiffly. "I won't do it."

"Don't look at me," Jesse said, scowling.

Claire couldn't blame them. At. All. Still, she was not about to sit on her thumbs and just wait for another victim to be scattered around the town like fertilizer. She was getting very sick of that. "I'm up for any other ideas," she looked at them both, eyebrows raised. "This is the safest that I can think of, to all three of us, _and_ those people out there...but by all means, tell me what you had in mind."

"I'm not going to do it," Ben said again, his voice a little more passionate. "I _won't._ Not after last time. I don't care if it is acting, I _can't-_" his voice broke and he looked away, feeling ashamed of himself. "Please don't make me do this." Claire reached for his hand and squeezed it, not letting go. She knew it'd been more than a lot to imply, which is why she didn't want to. Her own haunted look was buried deep behind her eyes, but it was hardened by the survival tactic she'd employed far longer than she'd known either of them. _Do the job_.

But she couldn't push Ben back into that space. Which is why she was very quiet.

"I'll do it." Jesse's voice was firm; Ben's expression saw to that. "If it comes to that. It's pretty farfetched, though. Am I supposed to just molest you all around town and hope this thing comes around?"

"Supposedly it hangs around the clubs, and there're only three of those in this town-all on the same street." Claire responded quietly, trying to force everything in her head through a cold filter of logic. The emotions were gumming things up; sometimes she could handle them easily. Others, not so much. Her thumb drew back and forth over Ben's hand, but her eyes lifted up to Jesse's. "When we see it," _when_, not 'if'. "You can tell it to freeze, and we'll go from there." She hoped she sounded more certain than she felt. Claire wanted this job done and over with as soon as possible.

"And what if regular people come along? Just...what, mindwipe them?" His stomach was curling tighter and tighter. There just had to be a better plan than this. Ben remained stone silent the entire time, his eyes unfocused off to the side and his hand limp in Claire's.

She took in a breath and let it out slow, wiping the bottom of her face with her free palm. It stayed there as her eyes drifted off, and she shook her head. She fell silent, rather than admit that she had no idea what to say to that. Maybe tracking known offenders _was_ a better idea... even if it ended with another death. Or three.

They were offenders, right?

"We could split up...each take a club." No other alternatives were being offered, and as much as it made her head and heart feel like they were being boiled in acid, Claire liked to think she had all the answers.

Ben's eyes refocused at Claire's comment and he looked between the two of them. He didn't like the idea of them splitting up at all, but it made sense. They could cover more ground that way. _And if all the clubs are on the same street, at least it won't take us long to get there, and Jesse can scope the place out first so he can feel better about it,_ Ben thought hazily.

"Yeah sure, that's fine," he said in a far-off voice, giving Claire's hand a weak squeeze before withdrawing it and sliding out of the chair. He grabbed his phone, heading in the direction of the door. "I'll be right back, I need to make a call."

Biting back the desire to ask him to stay, Jesse focused on Claire's thoughts as Ben walked out the door. It definitely eased the knot in his stomach. And gave him an idea.

"Hey. So if we find a repeat offender at the clubs, and he's not doing enough to bait whatever this thing is, I could make him do it. Attack me, I mean," Jesse added quickly. "That way, if real people swooped in to rescue instead of what we're looking for, well, he'd have it coming anyway." Claire's expression didn't change.

"No," she said, plain and simple, and automatic. "I don't like the idea of mind-controlled extortion," or the idea of anyone attacking Jesse.

Jesse scowled. "So it's either wait around and hope some criminal does something where both of us and a creepy bird monster can see, or-"

"And what if the thing swoops in and you can't stop it?" Claire injected with a little more firmness to her voice. "You would've lead him to his death-criminal or no. You want that on your head?"

Scowl deepening, Jesse shrugged. "I'm not even all clear on why we're hunting this thing. Seems to be doing everyone a favor."

The door reopened and Ben trudged in again, head pointed down and shoulders slumped. He looked completely miserable. Claire looked up, and the rankled feeling the conversation with Jesse had caused was stirred in with what she saw in Ben's face. Her emotions were tearing at her morals and logic, leaving frustration and even a little misplaced resentment in their wake. Her nostrils flared as she forced a breath out slow, looked at Jesse, and _literally_ bit her tongue to keep from blurting something she'd regret later.

What she did manage to say was tight, and a bit hollow. "Just see if you can get a list of parolees nearby," and turned her lap top toward him as she stood up from her chair with her phone.

His body tense, Jesse didn't argue, sitting down and getting to work. He glanced at Ben, but that kind of thing was more Claire's bag. Besides, she started it. Ben looked up at the tone of Claire's voice, then looked between them, only then realizing the air felt a bit heavier. Had they actually fought while he was out? _Thought that was my job,_ he thought mutely, moving back to his computer and joining in on the research without a word. The faster they got the jump on these creatures the better, and they still weren't even sure if it was harpies, let alone how to kill it.

* * *

><p>At the risk of being watched -there was always a possibility when they were hunting creatures- Ben had parked the GTO a block down, and they'd planned to stagger their heading into each of the clubs. It had taken three days of tracking to see who on their lists were regulars, and another four to figure out their schedules. In the passing of time, one more man ended up in the coroner's office. They were all getting a little anxious about how long it was taking to catch the elusive killer in the act.<p>

"If something happens, remember the drill," Ben said lowly. Claire nodded without saying a word. Same as usual when they were headed into this part of the chase, she had her game-face on, though her eyes may've been slightly harder than usual. She was the first to break off from them, and disappeared into the small group of people filtering into the first club.

Jesse purposefully turned his back; otherwise he'd just watch her the whole way and not even be able to appreciate it. Anxiety gnawed at his gut at the idea of splitting up again, but he wasn't about to say so to Ben. Ben's hands settled on his shoulders, giving him a nod and a grim smile.

"Good luck," he said solemnly. "Stay safe. See you in a few hours."

"You too," Jesse said, giving his hand a squeeze before heading towards the club he was supposed to scope out. The loud thudding of the music assaulted his ears the moment he was through the doors and had "paid" the cover, and the press of dancing bodies easily filled every possible open space. Normally it was the kind of place Jesse thrived in, but right now it was stifling. He took deep breaths and waded through the crowd, willing himself to go unnoticed. In his case, it was particularly effective.

It was a while before he finally caught sight of of their suspects-slash-impending victim. The guy, Marc Weston, was lounging against the wall, beer in hand, not really interacting with anybody. Sitting back against the bar, Jesse watched him for a while and started to notice a pattern. Marc kept looking up at intervals, always at the same spot. That spot being the women's bathroom door, and the intervals being whenever women went in or out. _That's not pervy at all._ Waving off the bartender, Jesse just watched, and waited.

About twenty minutes into waiting, a dark-haired woman in a dark green, skin-tight shirt and equally-tight miniskirt headed toward the bathroom, tugging her phone out of her purse as she went. When the door swung close Marc stood, moving with purpose. Nobody else appeared to notice and in a matter of moments, he slid subtly through the door.

"_Shit_," Jesse hissed, instantly on his feet and shoving through the crowd. Sure they were supposed to wait and watch for the harpy or whatever to strike, but that didn't mean just sitting back and letting someone suffer.

Sliding into the women's bathroom, Jesse froze when he first saw them. Marc had her wrapped up from behind and pinned against the sink, one hand around her mouth. There wasn't time to think.

"Let her go!" Jesse snapped, power thrumming through his voice.

Marc's hand released from the woman as though he'd been burned, shock and confusion registering on his face before he scowled.

"Dude, mind your own goddamn business," he spat.

"Good thing this is my business then," Jesse said. This wasn't any good; he had to get them out of the bathroom, somewhere the harpy could see. And he had to make sure no one else had to play the part of Marc's victim, no matter what Claire said. Power in his words again, he said, "Besides, she's not the one you want to hurt. I am."

The man's eyes glazed over slightly before his entire expression hardened. Then he shoved Jesse hard against the wall with a lot more strength in his arms than he'd anticipated.

"Damn right I do, asshole. You know what happens to fucking heroes, man? They get burned."

Heart suddenly doing double time, Jesse squirmed but only found himself pinned harder. He had to get the out of there. "Let's-" The thought got caught off when Marc's fist slammed across his face. Jesse's head snapped back against the wall, his vision exploding in black and white spots. Before the world had settled back into place, another fist plowed into his gut, knocking the wind out of him. Jesse sagged to his knees.

Marc pulled his leg back to kick him, but without warning he yelped out in surprise, stumbling backward before he was lifted straight off the floor.

"You really shouldn't do that," the woman warned, her voice icy. "Tell you what, sweetie: You leave now, and I won't rip your head clean off of your body with my bare hands. Sound fair?"

"Nngh," came Marc's reply, his eyes bugging out. Presumably it was a yes. In any case, the woman dropped him and Marc quickly stumbled out the door, gasping for breath.

Which left Jesse, sagged against the wall, alone in the bathroom with a woman who could lift three times her size.

"Y-you're not human," he said, staring at her golden eyes.

"Neither are you," the woman replied, head tilting off to the left. Her eyes faded back to brown again, but the cat was out of the bag now. "Why are you following me?"

Jesse shook his head, his vision tilting slightly though he felt the bump on the back of his head already healing. "I'm not. I was following the asshole. Though, I had been hoping to meet you." Gingerly, he got to his feet. "What are you? Exactly."

Her eyes narrowed. "Not interested, that's for sure," she said, her voice a little flat. "This isn't _The Last Highlander,_ sweetie. Now, if you'll excuse me-"

He darted in front of the door. "You need to stop killing people," he said, his expression serious.

The woman moved in close, glaring daggers into his eyes. She all but radiated power and authority, despite her small frame.

"I was brought here," she said in the same cold voice as earlier. "I'm doing what I was born to do. Who are you to tell me off?"

"Nobody," he said, trying not to swallow. "But there are hunters after you now. You know about hunters? When human people start dying because of things like us, they come around to stop it. By any means necessary. You saved my ass and you're going after assholes, so I can't say I really object to what you're doing. But it could get you killed. Tell whoever brought you here to fuck off and that you're doing whatever you want."

The woman went silent at his rushed answer, her lips pressing into a thin line, but she didn't back away. Her head tilted again and she leaned in, taking a deep breath through her nose and then letting it out.

"This _is_ what I want," she said, her voice low. "Nobody summoned me. Me and my sisters just found ourselves here, and we went out to continue what we've always done. As for the hunters, well..." her lips turned up in a slow smile. "Let them try. I've been here a very, very long time. I think I can handle a couple of humans."

Jesse's expression tightened. "Think you can handle me? _Freeze._"

As quickly as the word was uttered, the woman stood stock still. Her eyes slowly widened before flashing gold again, fury bringing a deep flush to her face and her chest rising and falling with rapid breathing.

Pulling out his new phone, Jesse dialed Ben's number. "It's still not too late, you know," Jesse told her before Ben picked up. "Hey. I'm in the women's bathroom with one of them. Careful, though, she says she has sisters."

"_Dude, seriously? We're on the job. If this is some sort of sexy talk-_"

"The _harpy_, mate," Jesse said, rolling his eyes. "For fuck's sake, get over here. I'm gonna call Claire."

"_No, wait-_" Ben said sharply. "_If there's more, then we can't come. We gotta watch out. You've gotta handle this on your own, man._"

Jesse's eyes widened. "How? What am I supposed to do?"

"_Excellent question! I'll have to get back to you on that._" His voice faded off briefly and then he spoke very quickly. "_Get her out of there and back to the car. We need to run through the whole schtick, but I gotta go._"

"Fuck." Jesse scowled as line went dead. Then he looked at the woman. "Alright. Keep your mouth shut and follow me. And don't try to hurt or grab anyone along the way, including me," he added sharply before heading out the door and holding it open for her.

The harpy followed as she was told, but the anger never left her face. The two of them slowly made their way through the pulsing crowd, the music fading as they finally emerged. As they walked through the empty streets, the harpy remained silent, her heels clicking away on the pavement. Jesse couldn't help glancing back at her.

"Look, no one's gonna hurt you," he said, as much to reassure himself as her. "We're just going to ask some questions, see if we can change your mind. There's room for everybody here."

When they got to the GTO, Jesse held the back door open for her. "Go ahead and have a seat."

The words didn't hold the same power as the ones in the bathroom had, and as a result the harpy simply stood there, hands clenched in fists at her sides as she glared him down.

Jesse raised an eyebrow at her. "I try to be nice... _Get in the car._"

Again the harpy's movements were forced and jerky, but as she passed him her eyes drifted off over his shoulder and her lips twisted up into a faint smile. Jesse was suddenly grabbed from behind and shoved against the side of the car hard, a hand wrapping around his head to yank him back as something was shoved into his mouth. He thrashed only to have his neck yanked further, and more hands pinning him down. Their fingers dug into him, unnaturally strong, and then suddenly they weren't fingers. They were too sharp, too long, and he could feel a thousand points piercing his skin. He remembered the body in the bag and suddenly found himself stumbling, alone, in their hotel room.

Spitting out the gag, his shaking hands were already reaching for his phone. Calling would take too long and wouldn't get to Ben and Claire at the same time, so he texted: _HARPIES AT THE CAR. DO NOT APPROACH. ABORT. I'LL SEE YOU AT THE STORE._

Without waiting for a response, Jesse went to meet them. Going from the dark hotel room to the bright, artificially-lit convenience store was enough to make anyone's eyes burn. It felt like the longest wait imaginable, but finally Ben and Claire arrived. Ben panted, having ran to get there fast enough.

"What happened? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he said, though his hand found Claire's without a word. "They got the jump on me but I got away. They know we're hunters, and that we're after them."

"Why were they at the car?" Claire injected with a bit of alarm. That wasn't good... Not if they knew what they were there for. Hell, not for any reason, was that a positive scenario.

At this, Jesse's expression turned a little guilty. "I'd captured one of them. I took her to the car for safe-keeping. I... I didn't notice anyone following us at the time, but I guess they were."

"I saw," Ben answered between deep breaths. "I followed my mark outside and she almost went for him but then she just... took off down the street." Claire switched looks between them, stiff in a contemplative silence. Though she still held Jesse's hand, her grip was a bit stiff. Distracted.

Finally, she sighed hard and looked off in the direction of the GTO. That settled it, in her mind-these things weren't leaving this town if they knew how to track them. "My end was a no-show anyway."

"So they know what the car looks like and they know we're hunters," Ben breathed out, feeling a sinking sensation in his chest. "Fuck."

Jesse's chest clenched. "I'm sorry. I should've been more aware of what was going on, realized something was up. And I shouldn't have been so stupid, blabbing everything. I was trying to talk her out of it, get her to stop killing."

"It's okay, man, you didn't know," Ben answered, his hand coming up to give his forearm a light squeeze. "Talking it out usually takes a little time."

Claire just stayed quiet, too many things were going through her mind, that saying them would likely come out a jumbled mess. Things needed to be re-planned. New factors had to be watched for. Now, as far as she could tell, _they_ were the targets.

"C'mon-we better get back," she finally said, quietly. She let go of Jesse's hand and pulled out her phone, turning toward the door. "I'll get us a cab." The two-mile walk to the hotel was a little too dangerous at this point.

* * *

><p>Ben sucked in a sharp breath as he startled awake. It took a minute for him to catch his breath and reorient himself to his surroundings.<p>

He'd had the nightmare again. It'd been months since the last time he'd had it, but there it was, the last strained sound of his mother's scream echoing through his head. He could feel Jesse's body pressed against him, warm and breathing slow, but when he turned toward where Claire was supposed to be he found the spot cold. It was only then that he recognized the muted blue light of a laptop screen. Looking up, he could see Claire hunched over it.

"Hey, why're you awake?" he called out in a loud whisper, his voice still gritty from sleep.

_Where do I start_, Claire thought silently as a natural reaction, but merely blinked tiredly at the screen before turning a half-look toward Ben's heavy voice. "Digging deeper into something that caught my eye earlier," she answered, keeping her voice low. Ben carefully adjusted Jesse's arm from around him and eased carefully away, rolling off the bed. The floor creaked quietly underneath his bare feet as he moved over to where she was sitting, his hands gently coming to rest on her shoulders.

"It can't wait until morning?" he asked quietly, his voice a little louder now that he was closer to her. The weight of his hands was comforting, like a blanket lulling her to give in and go back to bed-but her brain wasn't about to relent. It hadn't properly shut up in a long time.

Claire shook her head, but pointed with her ring finger at the screen. "I think I found a reason why three ancient Greek monsters are terrorizing Redneckville, Alabama." There in the prominent window was an Arlington Times article showcasing the Birmingham branch of the Smithsonian, and its featured Echos of Olympus exhibit, which was staying there for three months before moving on toward New Orleans. Ben bent down over her shoulder to look, frowning slightly.

"But I thought they were monsters. If they're attached to an object, wouldn't that make it more like a haunting?"

"However it works, that traveling exhibit came through this town a week before the first death." Claire sat back in the pleather chair, sighing and pulling her knees up to her chest in order to stretch her back. Ben straightened up and resettled his hands on her shoulders again, massaging the chorded muscle with practiced ease. He could feel a deep tension beneath his hands that he hadn't been wholly aware of until right then. Something was wrong.

"We'll check it out in the morning," he said softly.

Despite the near robotic desire to keep reading and keep digging into that exhibit's manifest, Claire's eyes involuntarily closed, and a silent breath deflated her shoulders. His fingers encroached on a thick, dull pain buried deeper than the muscle itself. Its discovery only tightened her up a fraction more, and she put her hand on his to signal him to stop. She didn't let go of his hand, though, whether she was aware of it or not.

Ben swallowed, the strength in his hands dissolving. After a moment he pulled his free one up to swipe her hair away and kiss her neck.

"Talk to me," he coaxed gently. Claire felt a prick of _something_ painful spark behind her jaw; a physical manifestation of an emotional spike, brought on by his kiss, but more by his words. Her eyes tightened, just for a moment, while the sensation faded away, though wasn't completely gone.

She was tired, but that wasn't anything new. She was worried, but that wasn't new either. However, the carefully balanced and contained tempest that kept her going all these years had gotten a hell of a lot bigger in the last several months, with too many new factors added to the debris cloud. Factors like guilt and love and frustration and a new breed of fear she hadn't known since she was thirteen. The storm had become a super cell, and it was slowly eroding her from the inside out.

But she never said a word. Because that's how it was done; soldier on. Accept the consequences. Walk off the pain.

"About what?" she replied, just as gently, but the words felt hollow in her own ears. His free hand slid up and through her hair, massaging her scalp.

"We're in this together," he murmured. "Remember? Whatever's got you like a live wire, you don't gotta do it alone. I'm here."

Her head tilted a bit into his touch, but not falling limp. It was just enough so that she could meet his eyes, and how concerned they were caused another pang of that earlier, undefined sensation. The corners of her mouth turned up in the slightest impression of a tired smile. "Who's alone?" she countered just as quiet, then sighed heavily, looking back at the laptop. There was no use stirring up the dust right now; they had a pressing job to do.

Ben gently tilted her head back, pressing a kiss to her forehead before gently claiming her lips.

"Is that part of it?" he asked, trying to keep his voice light. "Because if you need more time to yourself-" Claire very faintly shook her head, even as she rested her brow against him. The barely-there kiss had more intensity than she anticipated. She rolled her lips together, and pushed another nasal sigh.

What hurt the most was that there was a part of her that wanted to agree with him-not because she wanted to be away from them, but because of the terror that came with how much she loved them. Whether it be severed by the dangerous things in their lives, or - equally hard to bear - them drifting away from her, Claire's natural defense was to separate before what you cared for got ripped away. It was so ingrained, that she hadn't realized it creeping up on her.

She put a hand on his cheek and toyed her fingers in his shaggy hair. "I'm just-wound a little tight," she explained, truthfully. What she didn't say was how she wanted to just sit there and cry, or go outside and scream until her throat bled. But neither thing was an option. "It happens."

Ben squeezed her shoulder lightly. "Whatever I can do," he murmured. "And I don't mean that in any way, just so you know." He let out a slow breath, his thumb trailing along her cheek. "I love you, Claire. I wanna help you."

She felt something inside her break; not a complete shattering, but a long, thin fissure ran the length of her, and Claire took in a deep breath. She closed her eyes and gently nosed against his cheek. Oddly enough, she felt that tiny, almost mundane bit of contact more acutely than anything in the last few days. It was enough to take her breath and words away.

After a minute, her hand squeezed around his and she slowly started to stand, abandoning the laptop for another attempt at sleep. Ben followed behind her wordlessly, pausing at the end of the bed.

"You want the middle, or back on the end again?" he asked in a low whisper. Claire looked up, oddly stricken by the question, even though it hadn't been the first time she heard it. For some reason, it just stuck out this time, and she looked down at Jesse's still form.

"Middle," she answered lowly, surprised her voice even made it past the breath. She slipped under the sheets, careful not to disturb him, and held the covers open for Ben. Before he settled in, Claire felt an arm slip around her, Jesse pressing in tight against her back.

"I missed you," he said in a soft whisper. The crack inside her cut a little deeper with the warm pressure and warmer words. Claire draped her arm over his and nestled back against him while Ben pressed in close, his arm curving just under theirs. He stayed quiet, watching her for a few moments before he finally closed his eyes and leaned in enough to give her a brief kiss.

As soft and quick as it was, that kiss resonated through Claire for a long time. Her fingertips gingerly bridged the gap between his and Jesse's arm around her middle, thoughtlessly caressing both in minute back and forth patterns until it felt natural to stop-as if she were asleep. But she wasn't. Not until well after the rhythmic breathing on each side of her finally lulled over the steam of thoughts and worries in her head.

* * *

><p>Claire had insisted on doing more research, so it had been up to Jesse and Ben to go investigate the museum the following day. It certainly wasn't atypical of a hunt, but Ben certainly felt that it was better to turn every stone than to potentially miss something. Still, it felt weird approaching the desk, paying admission, getting the stamp... he hadn't gone to a museum since he was a kid, and even then he remembered being bored out of his mind. Thankfully they weren't going to stay for long.<p>

Jesse was all but running through the museum, always a step or two ahead of Ben and totally focused on following the directions they'd figured out from the map. He wanted to get in and out of there as quickly as they could. Leaving Claire alone sat about as well with him as a brick in his stomach.

The Echos of Olympus exhibit had a grand, Parthenon-y entrance that Jesse breezed right by. And then he stopped. The thing was huge, and it looked there wasn't just one room in the exhibit. "Any kind of clue what kind of thing we're looking for?" he asked Ben, slightly breathless.

"None whatsoever," Ben answered, feeling a drop in his stomach. Claire would know. His hand went to his phone, quickly sending her a text message as he continued to talk aloud to Jesse: "Let's just circle around and see."

With a small scowl, Jesse started towards the case of figurines to the right, carefully reading the descriptions over for any mention of vengeful women.

A minute or two after Ben sent his message, his phone buzzed with Claire's reply:

_No solid clue. Maybe something that's supposed to be cursed, or missing._

"Cursed or missing?" Ben asked aloud, though he stuck the phone back in his pocket as he took the other side of the large hallway. It was a big place; just as before, they would need to split up a little in order to cover more ground.

In spite of the urgency, Ben found himself mildly interested in the items on display. It was certainly a change of pace from what he normally saw. However, as he breezed by each piece, he suddenly came upon an empty display. His brow furrowed as he read the description plate: _Porcelain jar, hand-painted._

"Oh, it's a right shame you can't see that one," a warm woman's voice came from behind him. He turned to find a middle-aged woman, her auburn her up in a loose knot. She wore the red vest standard for the museum staff. "It's beautiful, but they've got it out for repairs, I'm afraid."

"Repairs?" Ben asked, feeling his pulse start to beat a little faster. "What happened to it?"

"Seems it got a little mishandled in transit," she said, giving a light click of her tongue. "Even the most careful hand can slip sometimes, but it is a shame."

His panicked heartbeat was so loud that he could hear it rushing in his ears, nearly drowning out her words. So they _had_ been attached to an item. "By any chance, d'you know what the painting on the jar was?"

"I do," the woman said, smiling and straightening. "It was the legend of King Phineas of Thrace and the harpies. Zeus sent the harpies to steal away Phineas' food every day, to punish Phineas for his prophetic abilities and revealing the secrets of the gods."

Ben forced an impressed look on his face, then went through the process of looking disappointed. "Any idea when it'll be back?" he asked, though his mind was already going through the process of how they were going to track it down. Maybe they'd be lucky and could zap the harpies back into the jar. _God, this is too much like a freaking genie legend,_ he thought agitatedly. _What the hell._

The woman gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm afraid not. The folks in restoration are very picky about not only fixing the jar but also ensuring it is less likely to be harmed in the future. Might not even get to be seen here in Alabama."

The words fell out of him before he was able to stop himself: "Do you repair on site?"

"Of course," she said, smiling proudly. "Birmingham has some of the most world-renowned experts on antiquities. They're taking good care of it."

_Oh goodie,_ Ben thought sarcastically. _A damn breaking-and-entering in a **museum.** This is gonna be **fun**._

"I'm goin' to school for repair," he replied with a grin. "But I didn't know you guys had a department for it. How awesome."

She looked infinitely pleased. "They are a wonderfully dedicated bunch. If you're studying in the area, I'm sure your professors will take you behind the scenes some day."

Ben put on his best hopeful expression. "I don't suppose I could convince you to maybe let me take a peek early? I promise I'll keep my hands to myself, I'm just so fascinated with the field. It'd be great to see something other than pictures and videos, y'know?"

"Oh darling, I'm afraid that's not possible. They don't even let _me_ back there without an expert," she said with a smile. Ben dialed up the charm to ten, conjuring up the most embarrassing mental image he could to help bring a flush to his face.

"Maybe you could introduce me to an expert? I'd be _so_ grateful."

She pursed her lips, looking uncertain, but then she pulled out a phone. "Give me your email address and I'll see what I can do. I'm afraid they are quite busy, though, so no promises."

"Yeah, sure, no problem," Ben replied, feeling a tug of disappointment in his gut. _Guess the job goes to Wonderboy again._ "Y'gotta pen?"

* * *

><p>It was only a matter of finding the right thing to look for. Once they had determined the creatures running amok in Arlington were harpies, finding all the information on her custom configured network of databases was simple. It was sifting through all the lore, myth, and actual truths that took time-which is why she opted to stay behind. Unfortunately, the lack of sleep and constant uncomfortable buzzing under her skin was making sitting still for too long simply impossible.<p>

On her way back from a short break at the motel vending machines, Claire rounded the corner to their room, making sure the orange fizz bubbling from her open soda didn't spill on her shoes. Movement in the background of her field of vision had her pause, though. A pair of legs shifted weight, standing directly in front of the door she was heading toward.

"Alice Halstead?" the first suited man called out. "FBI, open the door."

Claire froze. Synapses flared to life, working through various cover stories, back-door plans, and worst case scenarios, but the predominant theme in her head at the moment was a terrible slew of every curse word Claire could remember.

Half a second later, everything clicked into place. She put a bright smile on her face and a swagger in her stride, despite the fact that her heart was firmly lodged in her throat. "Y'all lookin' fer th'lady stayin' there, Handsome?" Thank you, Steel Magnolias, for the perfection of her accent.

The second agent turned to look at her, his expression sharp and piercing. He looked her up and down, then narrowed his eyes at her.

"Have you seen her?"

"Sure, I seen'er," Southern-Belle-Claire responded, fingering the cap of her soda as she came to rest in their company. "My Paw's visitin' from Atlanta-he's inn'a room down there on'a end." Claire nodded toward the strip of rooms beyond the men, weaving the story in her brain, even as she continued. "She dang-nearly ran me over this mornin'. Said she was late fer some conference down in Birmingham."

The first agent flashed her a thin-lipped smile, pulling out a thin silver holder from his inner pocket and tugging out a single, cream-colored card.

"If you happen to see her comin' back in, would you give us a call first thing? It's very important."

Claire took the card gingerly, glancing down at it before she put it in her back pocket, smiling up to the Fed as she did. "Sure thing, Fellas," she said, then furrowed her brows. "She in some kinda trouble? I don'wanna have my Paw inn'a same motel with anyone dangerous..."

"We aren't at liberty to share that information, ma'am," agent number two replied in a somewhat gruff voice. "If you'll excuse us."

The two men immediately turned and headed off down the hall at a fast trot, disappearing around the corner. As soon as they were out of sight was the first time she felt like she could actually breathe.

_Okay, part one down..._ Claire thought sharply, forcing herself to continue down the hall, past their room door, just in case there was a pair of eyes on her somewhere she couldn't see. When she got to the staircase, she slipped inside, and dug out her phone, rapidly texting both the boys.

_Code Blue; new hotel name coming soon._

* * *

><p>Once upon a time, Ben used to be excellent at working over people. Though he would never openly admit it, it was one of his favorite parts of the job. He'd spent years perfecting it: the puppy dog eyes, the sincere tone, the act of being genuine. While he certainly enjoyed the fact that Jesse made everything a hundred times easier, he couldn't help but feel like he was losing his touch entirely when Jesse managed not only to get into the repair department, but walk out with the vase as well. At least they didn't have to come back after closing, though.<p>

He stayed a quiet as they made it back to the car, sliding into the driver's seat and starting the engine. Settling the well-packed pottery between them, Jesse felt infinitely better. They were on their way back to Claire, and might've gotten something good for the case besides.

"That went better than I thought it would."

Ben hummed in agreement but didn't add anything, his eyes flicking up to the rearview mirror as he merged into traffic. His mind also drifted to Claire, and the scene from the previous night. She still hadn't told them what was wrong, but he'd noticed her focus honing in on the case the moment she'd found something in the papers. It wasn't out of character for her, but the tension in her body and in her eyes was.

"Maybe we should stop and pick somethin' up for Claire," he said after a few minutes of silence. "Just, y'know... to cheer her up."

Shoulders sagging, Jesse nodded. "Do you... know anything? Is there some sort of bad anniversary coming up or something?"

Ben went through his mental calendar, then shook his head. "Don' think so-"

He was interrupted by a text alert on his phone, and blinked in surprise as Jesse's went off a half-second later. _Well that can't be good..._

Jesse pulled the phone out of his pocket, the device still a bit foreign to him. He scowled as he read, before saying aloud, "Code Blue. She'll send us a new hotel name soon."

Ben's eyes suddenly went wide and color drained out of his face. "Fuck. _Shit._ Okay. That- okay." On the one hand, that meant she was safe. On the other, it didn't guarantee she'd be safe for long. "Guess we can stop for something later." He found a nearby phone booth and immediately pulled over, leaving the car running as he jumped out and pressed inside. Luckily, the directory screen still seemed to be functional. It wasn't uncommon for people to bust them up and try to steal the parts. A few keytaps in, he brought up the hotel and motel list, flipping to the third page and the third from the bottom. She would try there first, assuming it was far enough away from their first choice. Typing the address into his phone's GPS, he trotted back to the car and immediately started off again.

* * *

><p>As if the last two hours hadn't been stressful enough, Claire's muscles had knotted up double for the fact that the circumstances left her in the transit without a car. Granted, she was glad the GTO wasn't in the parking lot when the Feds came knocking. Truth be told, she was actually a little amazed she got away without them giving her a second glance; surely that good luck won't be repeated if they caught up to her in this town. By now, they <em>had<em> to have a description-and it would match the sweet southern Sally that pointed them down the interstate.

Which was the reason for a stop at the local mall, after the new hotel had been procured (using a completely new identity). Claire now sat in the far corner booth of the diner close to the new place; sporting a look she thought completely opposite of what the law would be looking for. With streaks of bright green and pink mussed through her natural blond hair, heavy eyeliner, and the purposefully dark (and in some places, torn) clothing, 'rebellious youth'-Claire tensely sipped at a mug of coffee around an uncomfortable false lip ring... looking very much unapproachable.

Walking through the diner door, Jesse did a poor job of not looking overly concerned as he scanned the place. It was mid-afternoon and not very busy, so it was short work in seeing that Claire wasn't there yet. "Should we give her a call?" he asked Ben coming in right behind him. "She should already be here, shouldn't she?"

Ben chewed his lower lip and frowned, then pulled out his phone. Calling might be a little risky, especially if she was still being followed, so he sent out a where-are-you text instead, his eyes looking up and sweeping the diner's occupants as he pressed _send._

Apparently the look did its job, considering Claire watched them both from her corner vantage point-neither hinting recognition of any kind. Ben tapping out a message that buzzed in her phone two seconds later confirmed that. Claire just sighed lightly through her nose and typed a quick reply that simply said: _Far left_ The moment Ben checked the reply his head snapped in that direction, his eyes going a little wide.

"Oh god, I hope that isn't permanent," he muttered, leading the way toward the little corner booth nearest the side exit.

Scowling in confusion, Jesse followed, and felt a jolt when he looked beyond the metal, make-up, and dye of the little blond goth. He only just managed to hold back a laugh.

"Kinky," he teased, sliding into the seat next to her and giving her a peck on the cheek. "You want me in a black leather collar so we can get this roleplay right?" Claire just rolled her eyes a little.

"Don't start. I've had a bad day," she grumbled, but not threateningly. She had the look of a cat in a bathtub. "Any better on your end?" Her eyes lifted to Ben; under the heavy charcoal outline, their color seemed even more pale. Ben forcibly shoved away the complex emotions that came from the look in her eye.

"We found the object. It's shaping up to be a bit like a classical genie legend. They must've been stuck inside and got out once the jar broke." Claire faintly nodded, and wet her bottom lip. The fake ring there was turning out to be more trouble than the damn thing was worth. The distraction evaporated when she was struck by a sudden thought.

"Wait-it's broken?"

Ben nodded solemnly. "Though I'm sure a little epoxy glue should fix it up. If we go firing it in a kiln again, the paint'll burn off, and I have a feeling it's what makes it more than just a plain ol' jar."

Jesse winced. "And we'll probably have to work fast. No doubt the place had security cameras and once they realize they didn't want to give me the jar..."

Claire's face had started to blanch as Ben's words hinted at what Jesse then confirmed.

"...you took it from the museum?" Of course they did; it would've been the next logical step, but they didn't know they'd be operating under the FBI's shadow. She grimaced to herself, suppressing a curse or three. When she looked up, there was a new flare of chaotic urgency in her eyes. "We gotta figure this out _tonight_. There's only so many places we can run in this town."

Ben nodded in agreement. "Did you manage to find anything?" he asked, his hands twisting in his lap beneath the table. Claire pushed a frustrated breath through her words.

"Something, but it's vague. Sounds like a ritual, but there's a big importance stressed on there being a _demi-god_ to perform it."

Ben felt his stomach sink and he put on a weary smile. "Fantastic. Even if we did manage to find one, that'd be as bad as the harpies themselves."

Jesse looked between them. "Is there some way we can summon a god or something? Ask if they have any kids around? Or is that just a half-god?" Claire's eyes were unfocused on her coffee as she pondered the options, distracted only by the frustration of the fake piercing. She pulled it off and tucked it in a napkin to be thrown away.

"They're _extremely_ hard to track down; never sticking in one place, disappearing as fast as-" She stopped mid-sentence. A sharp sting of frustration shot through her mind when she realized she hadn't made the connection earlier.

Her eyes were suddenly on Jesse, then switched to Ben, knowingly. Ben felt his pulse double up.

"You think it might work?"

"Wait, what?" Jesse said, uncertainty tinged in his voice. He felt like he blacked out a couple parts of the conversation. Claire's hand fell on his thigh under the table, her eyebrows arched as she clarified.

"You're the closest thing we have to a demi-god."

The fact that what he was might prove useful should have made Jesse happy. Instead it made his stomach churn. _As bad as the harpies themselves._ And it wasn't like they were even sure about it. If things went wrong, the consequences would be on him. He'd already gotten a taste for how fast, strong, and smart the harpies were.

"What would I have to do?" he asked. _And please don't make me do it alone._ Ben found his other knee and gave it a squeeze.

Claire made a quick, sympathetic face, and sighed lightly. "I'm not exactly sure yet." Just then, a diner waitress wandered up to their table, wearing an obviously dubious look for Claire, but set two plastic bags of a to-go order on the table and gave the boys a customer-service smile. She turned around with a hasty 'have a good one'. Claire looked none too relieved.

Jesse bit his tongue before scooting out of the booth. "Let's get on it then."

* * *

><p>His heart thumping harder than the bass, Jesse's eyes were overly wide as he moved through the dance floor. Being the lure was probably his least favorite job, but he was the only one the harpies got a look at. Of course, it didn't make him all that comfortable that he only ever got a look at one of them. The other two could be anyone.<p>

But at least he'd already spotted the one he knew. More importantly, he'd made sure she spotted him. Now to get back to the car and hope the girls were pissed enough to still want a piece of him.

Stepping into the sweltering night, he tried to keep his calm as he headed back towards Ben and Claire. Despite himself, his steps were quick, and they were also being followed; not from just inside the club foyer, where a tall brunette in violet stilettos trailed him through the crowd, but from each side on the walk that cut through the entertainment district of Arlington.

He was just within sight of the car when the familiar harpy called out to him: "Back for more, are you? You're not getting away so easily this time, sweetie." Not too far away from her was her blond sister, and stepping around a building on his flank, the redhead.

Jesse's steps quickened slightly as he glanced back. "Yes I am," he said, hoping he sounded as confident as he wished he felt. "But you won't. Unless you want to talk, work things out so we all walk away alive and happy."

"We're not really in the mood for talking," the blonde retorted. The three sisters rushed forward with a sudden burst of speed.

Instinctively taking off at a run, it didn't matter that Jesse couldn't beat them to the car. They'd planned on this anyway. Mentally wishing Ben and Claire a quick trip to the spot they'd found in the woods, he disappeared. The moment he was out of sight, Ben revved the engine and took off down the street at full speed, hoping to God that they could make it to the woods without being pulled over. Claire held tight to her seat belt and the dash, thinking the same thing, until the distinct clank and bang of something large and heavy landing on the car roof made her worry a little more about being pulled apart.

An unearthly shriek came from above; Claire instinctively flinched downward into her seat, followed by another jolt when a second creature landed on the trunk.

"This may not've been the best idea..." she breathed, forcing her heart back down from her throat.

"Hang on!" Ben tossed back. Gripping the wheel tightly he slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel sharply to the left. The tires squealed on the pavement as one of the harpies - there was no trace of human appearance anymore - was thrown off the car. Ben threw the gear shaft into first and floored the gas again, pushing them both back in their seats.

The one that'd been bucked off the back end was quickly back in pursuit, slicing through the humid night air. The creature still perched on the roof slammed one claw into the back windshield, over and over, spider webbing the bullet proof glass Claire had installed six years ago. She looked sharply over her shoulder, readying her gun. Hopefully it'd buy time if the thing got through. Or _when_ it got through.

"Any sign'a the other th-" Claire's voice was cut off by her own yelp when one of the missing harpies landed in a dragon-like crouch right on the hood, jarring the car out of it's speed with a bark of tires and crinkle of metal. Ben yanked the wheel in the opposite direction, but apparently the trick only worked once as the harpies held on steadfast.

"Can you get a shot out the side window?" Ben asked, his voice tight.

There was only a brief hesitation on Claire's part, only because she knew if she hung out her window too far, she'd probably be yanked out of it. Her eyes wide, she looked at him, then at the creature on the hood, quickly cranking down her window. Breathing hard and shallow, her eyes kept switching from the roof to the thing on the front of the car. Just as she arched her arm and head through the window to take aim, the third harpy landed on the dented trunk, screeching and clawing toward her. The shot went wide, grazing the thing on the hood's wing and pulling out a sharp screech out of the creature, but it was just enough of a distraction. Ben barrelled off the main road. The thick, low-hanging branches collided with the one on the roof, knocking it off.

Somewhere in the back of Claire's mind was a rageful cry for vengeance for her beloved car, set to the sounds of scraping talons drawing sparks on the roof's now dented paint job, but seeing the thing collide with the one that clung to the trunk snapped her focus in sharp. She took the advantage to slink further out the window, braced on her hip so both hands could aim at the one she shot before. A chorus of shrill cries met their ears as they raced through the woods at top speed.

"Fuck, Jess, you better be ready," Ben uttered, his tone bordering on hysterical.

* * *

><p>Jesse's hands shook slightly as he cut open the thistle, carefully squeezing what liquid he could from it. "Right," he breathed, tossing the bud aside before spinning the jar three times clockwise.<p>

He looked over at the notebook, where Claire had written out the incantation. He was pretty sure he had it down. The lid lay right by it, and the knife on top of that. Now all he needed was the harpies.

On cue, he heard the distance roar of the GTO's engine. His heart leapt. Not that he'd doubted a moment that Ben and Claire would be fine. But he felt better as the car screeched into the clearing with Claire half hanging out the passenger side window, hanging on to the rear view mirror with one hand and aiming a gun with the other.

Another shot rang out, slamming the winged creature on the roof of the car in the shoulder joint right before the talons closed around her arm. Ben threw the door open, just barely aiming before he fired his gun at the harpy's leg.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Jesse hissed, running forward. He'd expected the harpies to be quick, but not literally on top of them. The panic ratcheting up his throat, he yelled the first order to come to mind. "DON'T MOVE!"

The sheer force of the words hit Claire's every muscle, freezing her, and apparently everyone else, in place. One of the harpies, having been mid-flight, fell to the ground. Her eyes went wide, meeting Ben's equally frozen gaze, then locked on her precarious grip on the mirror, the only thing holding her upright.

"_Specifics_, Jesse!" she barked in a bit of panic.

Jesse looked at her, confused before it hit him. "Oh! Shit, sorry, Ben and Claire, you can move!"

The words were barely out of his mouth before Claire fell through the open window. Ben, equally freaked out by everything that had just happened and very nearly shaking from the adrenaline rush, quickly ran around the car to help her up.

"Start it!" she shouted, scrambling with Ben's help from the ground, her eyes firmly planted on the two motionless creatures precariously perched on the car. Instinct screamed for her to get away from them, even if they were still as statues.

Jesse nodded, but hesitated. "Looks like you got time to talk now," he said, looking at each of the harpies in turn. "It doesn't have to end this way, you know."

All three harpies shrieked in response, their voices carrying a note of discord that made Ben wince.

"Yeah, I'm thinking the talking-tos aren't gonna work this time," he said solemnly.

Jesse scowled before nodding. "It's just... they're kinda like us," he said. "We're...you're people who hunt bad monsters, they're monsters who hunt bad people."

"Jesse, they were gonna kill _you_-if you let them go, they're gonna kill _us_!" The tone in Claire's voice left no room for argument. "I'd say their definition of 'bad people' isn't all that _strict_."

"And given the fact that we're not exactly killing them," Ben pointed out swiftly.

Blushing and feeling ridiculous, Jesse turned back to his set up, getting to his knees in front of the jar. Grabbing the knife, he slit open his palm, refusing to let himself wince as he smeared blood along the pot's rim. "Hoson zēs, phainou."

The cut had already begun to heal, so he used the knife again, letting a small stream fall into the pot. "Mēden holōs sy lypou."

Slicing himself a third time, he ran the lid over his palm. "Pros oligon esti to zēn..."

He looked towards the harpies, his eyes shining pale. Looking at them now, their eyes gleaming yellow, their features twisted sharp, their arms bristling with black feathers, it was easier to believe Claire. They were monsters, and this was necessary.

"To telos ho chronos apaitei," he said finally, closing the lid over the jar.

It was as though the screeching suddenly doubled in volume and hit them from all sides, before modulating into human screams. The harpies' forms shimmered like a camera going out of focus just as their painted counterparts on the jar glowed a fierce red, then they vanished. The silence that followed settled heavily on all of them.

Claire took her hands off her ears, though they continued to ring. Frantically, she looked at the jar, at Jesse and Ben, then around the small clearing that surrounded them. She swallowed, tentatively willing her breath to slow down. Daring to think it was over.

Jesse let out a breath, picking up the jar. He tested the lid but it held fast, as though his blood were glue. His hand left a smear on the surface of it, across the face of the figure the harpies were stealing food from. "Now what do we do with it?" he asked quietly.

"I'm a fan of the sealing-with-cement-and-throwing-it-in-the-river thing we did with the flute last time," Ben offered. Claire agreed, and was already circling the GTO in order to open the trunk, which didn't take much, considering the beating it took. The lock was broken and dangling from a wire.

"Need something to put it in," she started, her voice still tight as wire. "The cement'll rise like dough and crush the thing, and I don't feel like ever coming back here..."

"Right!" Ben replied with a false air of cheerfulness as he clapped his hands together. "We'll get on that immediately then. Let's get the fuck outta here."

* * *

><p>Sitting in the middle of the bed, Jesse still held the jar. He hadn't let it go since they left the woods. He'd bound them in there, after all, so he'd be the one responsible if anything bad happened.<p>

"It'd have to be airtight, but strong enough to stand the concrete moving like that," he said.

Claire was leaning tensely on the large A/C unit under the window, glancing out of it more often than not. She'd been quiet the entire drive back from the woods. Forcing thoughts of any possible candidates for something to hold the jar safe was proving more difficult than she anticipated, when all she could think about was getting away from this town.

"I could weld one tight if we got a hold of a blowtorch," Ben suggested, frowning thoughtfully from where he sat in the nearby club chair.

"Maybe if we just wrap it up tight, tie weights on it, and drop it in the middle of the ocean," Jesse said, looking down at the jar.

"Something would break it," Claire finally injected, still looking out the window before slowly turning her eyes to the other two. "We could get a strong-box," she looked directly at Ben, nodding once. "Take a torch to that, then bury it in cement on our way out."

Ben nodded in agreement. "First thing tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow?" Jesse looked a bit pained. "Can't we just finish it now?" The way Claire looked at him showed how much she clearly agreed with that idea.

"I would love to," Ben drawled. "Except that it's 2AM, so unless you can conjure me up a fully-functional blowtorch, Harry Potter-"

Claire snorted lightly at the reemergence of the running gag that had to be explained to her at least three times before, then pushed off her perch near the window, heading for the door. "Grabbin' a soda," she sighed a bit in her voice, and arched her brows at them to take any orders.

"Something without caffeine, don't care," Ben said, giving her a faint smile.

"I'm fine, thanks," Jesse said, studying the image on the jar for about the hundredth time.

* * *

><p>It shouldn't have bothered Claire that the vending machine was out of what she was really craving, but it did. She cracked the seal on some generic brand of cola and took a reluctant sip, rounding the motel corner toward the walk that led back to the room. The hunt was over, for the most part-they'd be leaving soon, and the edge to her nerves could soften a little bit with every mile they put between themselves and this town. As she brought her eyes up from the ground, however, she found them settled immediately on the two federal agents in her path. The same two from earlier. This time their guns made an appearance.<p>

"Hands were we can see 'em," the taller agent said, his voice low but as sharp as a knife.

_Fuck!_ She complied slowly, still palming the open soda in one hand as it raised to shoulder level; a million and one thoughts buzzing through her head, and all drowned out by the automatic repeat of various curse words.

"C'mon now, boys," she said, her voice tight. "You don't need those."

"We'll be the judge of that, ma'am. Put down the pop," the second man said, his feet shifting. Claire stitched her brows together at them, completely fine with showing a little more of her true anxiety and agitation. Normally, she'd talk her way out of this, but the chances of that happening _a second time_ with these two all but disappeared.

"You gonna shoot me for holdin' a 'pop', Slick?" she countered defiantly, her feet planted where she was. If they wanted her, they'd have to come and get it.

The taller agent's eyes narrowed. "You've killed for less, isn't that right, Claire?"

The appearance of her name struck something sharp and deep inside. Claire felt her stomach twist and her features hardened on the lawman who _thought_ he had her pegged. In truth, the swell of acidic heat in her core was fear, and it fed the anger and sense of violation behind her eyes.

"Have I?" Her brows arched high as her voice lowered into dangerous territory.

"You don't deny that your name is Claire Novak?" the second man spoke up again, his blue eyes hard. Claire cracked a small, wolfish grin at him that didn't go anywhere near her eyes.

"Claire Novak died a long time ago, Fellas." Her fingertips were tense on the plastic bottle, slick with condensation, not unlike the delicate sheen on her cheeks, chest, and arms. Every fiber in her body felt infused with hot wire, and Claire was willing them closer. "She's the one thing I killed that didn't deserve it."

It looked like that was good enough for the shorter agent. "Claire Novak, you are under arrest. Put your hands on your head and get on your knees, and you really don't want to make me ask a second time."

"Oh, I think I do," she responded, losing her impression of a smile. _C'mon, c'mon..._ The first agent broke away and drifted off to the side, circling around her left in order to get behind her.

"Do as he said!" he barked.

The man in front of her looked to his partner. "Keep her covered," he said, before holstering his gun. She watched him like a snake as he moved forward, grabbing Claire's wrist roughly to twist it behind her back.

The next instant, the unfortunate Fed with his gun trained on her was hit in the face by a wall of frigid, sticky soda when Claire squeezed the open bottle with an estimated jerk toward his head. Using the same momentum, her wrist twisted out of the other's grip, and the butt of her hand slammed into his Adam's apple.

"Mother-" the first spat, wiping his arm hard against the back of his eyes. "Get on the ground, or I'll shoot!" Except that his gun was suddenly shot across the sidewalk when the back of Claire's boot cut across his hand and wrist. She became a small whirlwind of sharp, frenzied jabs and punches. Every strike crumbled a little more of the thick wall she'd been building around emotions and stresses she hadn't known how to deal with. Her logical consciousness shut down, giving way to the flood of pent up aggression that made her eyes wild. The first agent dove off to the side, rolling and grabbing up his gun again before he aimed and fired.

The bullet buckled the sidewalk a foot behind Claire's boot, but not before ripping through the waist of her jeans and an inch of skin and tissue beneath. A snarl sliced through her teeth as the rush of adrenaline and pain put iron behind her swing at the other lawman's temple. She connected, and he dropped. The first agent immediately took another shot. Claire felt white hot spike plunge into the meat of her chest, right beneath the right shoulder joint. Blinded by red sparks that replaced her vision, an anguished battle cry scraped her throat as she threw herself at him.

They both went down on the side of the curb, Claire's knee under his ribcage while both hands clawed at the one holding the gun. She slammed his wrist down on the edge of the parking brick nearby; once, twice, enough to crack the waffled grip as well as the bones in the back of his hand before it finally clicked to the ground. That's when the pummeling _really_ began.

He had long-since lost consciousness by the second time she'd bashed his head against the ground, but she kept going. Midway through what could have been the tenth punch to his busted and bleeding face, a sharp voice pierced through the red-tinged fog in her mind:

"_Claire! Stop!_"

Blood, sweat, and tears of rage stung her eyes the way the familiar voice stung her consciousness, opening the door for all the pain her body had been _trying_ to register, to get her to stop before the slug in her joint tore it to shreds or she bled to death while she took this unnamed federal agent with her. Claire's breaths were shuddering and labored as she whipped back from the bloody mess she created, shouting in pain as she landed on the gash in her hip. Her world was spinning out of control; a smear of colors and sounds that vibrated as she fell back to the pavement, completely unaware that she was sobbing.

There was a gentle hand on her shoulder, and then just like that the pain eased. Claire felt herself moved to standing before deep green eyes settled in her line of vision.

"You cannot go on like this," the angel said, her voice smooth and even. "You are slipping again. If you continue, you will lose yourself entirely, just as your mother did."

The sight of Kadiel through Claire's rage-blurred vision was enough to pull all the breath from her lungs, but the angel's words turned her knees into water. They buckled beneath her, slamming to the pavement as everything washed over her mind as a tsunami of grief, regret, and very real terror. Claire put her face in her hands, smearing blood across her cheeks, streaked under her palms by unrelenting tears. Kadiel observed her briefly, then turned to the two unconscious agents. Wordlessly she moved to the first, touching his forehead with two fingers. He zapped out of existence a half-second later, and was joined by his partner. It was only when both men had been dealt with that Kadiel moved back to Claire's form, crouching down in front of her and lifting her slowly to standing again.

"Please reconsider your path," she said softly. "You were finally regaining your faith, and doing the Lord's work. Nothing good will come of the road you are currently following."

The grief in Claire's eyes melted into the guilt she'd been harboring for a long time, but underneath it was a contempt that made her tears hot as they continued to fall. Her lips pressed into a thin line and her gaze dropped, but when it returned, it was hard and desperate.

"I'm following a path in the pitch dark!" she half-choked, still sparking with the aftershocks of her rage.

"Only because you've let yourself become blind, child," Kadiel replied, her hands cradling Claire's face. "Come back to yourself."

There was movement off to the side and suddenly Kadiel's gaze drifted, her expression becoming hard and dangerous. She pulled back and away, moving past Claire with swift and purposeful steps.

Five feet from the corner, Jesse stepped out, hands clenched as his side. "Freeze," he ordered, his voice managing to shake on even the one word. The angel immediately froze midstep, a fire igniting behind her eyes. Ben stepped out from behind Jesse a moment later, his favorite and most-trusted gun held firmly in his hand. Kadiel's lips curled back. Claire's eyes were wide, stunned, and still muddled with her flood of adrenaline.

"She's not going with you," Ben said coldly. "You should leave."

"I didn't come to take her," Kadiel said, her voice low and icy. "I came to keep her safe." Her gaze turned to Jesse. "I never knew how much danger she was really in."

Jesse's stomach turned to ice. He circled around the angel to Claire. "You alright?" he asked, his eyes only leaving Kadiel for a moment. Besides the blood left behind by healed wounds and a vicious fight, she was whole, but Claire didn't seem to know how to speak. That brief moment Jesse broke eye contact was all that the angel needed and when he looked back, she'd already gone. Ben sprinted into the spot where she'd been, then ran a hand roughly through his hair and kicked at the ground.

"Sonofabitch."

"How'd she do that?" Jesse snapped, spinning around to try to find her. "Shit. We gotta go. _Now_."

* * *

><p>Claire was finally getting her wish: they were leaving the city of Arlington behind, with an hour or two of darkness left before the sun would blanch the horizon. However, she was clearly far from as elated as she'd expect. They'd left in such a hurry, she hadn't even changed out of her blood stained clothes, now turning deep brown and black as they dried. She could smell it on herself; stale and coppery and mixed with dirt and sweat. She felt the ghost of pain where Kadiel had stitched her together; as if pain left its impression in guilt. She <em>should<em> be in pain. And in many senses, she still was. Claire hadn't said a word since the parking lot, and within fifteen minutes on the open road, emotional and physical exhaustion finally overtook her, leaning against the window in the back seat.

Jesse, on the other hand, had hardly stopped talking. His words were frenetic, not unlike his driving. It had been years since he'd physically crossed paths with an angel, and he'd gotten distracted and let her get away. If that thing was so concerned with Claire, it was a safe bet she wouldn't be leaving them be.

"We should get out of the country, that would be safer," he said, changing lanes to pass a slow car. "Some place unexpected, where they won't be looking."

"They're angels, man," Ben replied. "They're not just limited to one continent. We need-" He cut himself off suddenly, his brow pinching. "You remember those symbols from the college house back in DeKalb, don't you? Those were angel banishing sigils. Can you recreate them?"

Jesse's stomach sank. "No. C'mon, mate, I didn't even know what I was looking at, how am I supposed to remember those?"

"Just try!" Ben shot back, his voice straining. "'Cuz otherwise we're all fucked, don't you get it?"

_They can't find me if I'm alone._ Jesse just couldn't quite make himself say it aloud. There had to be another way. Gripping the wheel tighter, he took a few deep breaths. "I'll try. But we might be fucked anyway if one of those things got to Claire. You saw what she did; something's wrong."

"It's still Claire," Ben said insistently. "C'mon, pull over, you're gonna get us another run-in with the fuzz the way you're drivin'."

Jesse slowed down, but he didn't pull off. They couldn't stop. "Claire wouldn't _do_ that. Fuck, I thought she was gonna kill the guy. She might've and that angel was just getting rid of the bodies."

Ben shook his head again, looking into his mirror and back at Claire's sleeping form. "She probably had a reason. We'll ask her when she's up." His jaw tightened. "Seriously, just pull over for a sec so I can drive."

"Ben, these things wanna kill me," Jesse said, accelerating as he spoke. "They don't try to reason, they don't ask questions, all they want to do is stab first and I can't- I have to be doing something. If you want to drive, give me something else to do."

"Work on trying to remember those sigils," Ben tossed back. "Just c'mon, man, please."

His lips pressed in a line, Jesse eased off the gas, pulling off to the side of the road. He sat there for a second before stepping out and moving around to the passenger side. Since they were stopped anyway, he moved a little further from the car to take a piss. There hadn't exactly been time for that before leaving.

Ben looked back and caught the motion, letting out a burst of a sigh before pulling out his phone. He could only think of one person who might able to help them. The phone rang twice before there was an answer:

"_Benjamen Braeden, so help me, you better be dying to call me this late._"

Ben gave a faint smile into the darkness. "Heya, Iz. How ya been?"

"_Boy, I will hit you in the head with a brick-_"

"You got an empty bed or two?" Ben interrupted. "We're about a day out, but I can make it in twelve hours if I take the back roads. Should be there in time for lunch tomorrow."

The woman on the other end's voice softened slightly. "_You gonna tell me what's goin' on, Benjy?_"

"I promise I will, the moment I get six hours of sleep and some food in me." He paused, rolling his lips. "Don't suppose you know anything about angel-banishing sigils?"

There was silence before she replied: "_I'll see what I can do. Be safe, Benjy. I don't wanna have to read aboutcha in the paper._"

Feeling marginally better, Jesse slid in the passenger seat just as Ben finished with the call. He froze, hand still on the open door. "Who you talking to?" He didn't mean for suspicion to color his tone, but it did anyway.

"Friend'a mine," Ben answered, already dialing up Lucas's number even as he turned the ignition in the car again.

Jesse didn't like not knowing what Ben was doing, but he closed the door at least. "Who're you calling now?"

Ben shoved the frustration down. "Lucas. Front pocket in my bag, there's a notebook and a bag of pens."

"_Hello?_" came the sleepy voice on the other end of the receiver.

"Luke! Buddy, sorry, I didn't mean to wake ya, but I need to pick your brain, man."


	27. Deleted Scene: Nightmare

Jesse leaned in close to the mirror as he brushed his teeth, watching the bristles and paste swoop back and forth, and looking too see what the back of his mouth really looked like. It was about as exciting as brushing got. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and jerked back, brushing like a normal person as Ben came in. It wasn't until Ben closed the door, however, that he spat and looked up.

"Mate, if you gotta piss, wait until I'm out," he said with a small grin, washing out the brush. "There are boundaries."

"Actually," Ben started, his face neutral and even. "I wanted to talk."

Jesse knitted his brows, glancing back at the door. It wasn't often he had something to say that wasn't said in front of Claire. "Alright," Jesse said, turning the water off and setting his brush aside.

"You've been real helpful," the younger man said, leaning back against the door. "More than. You saved our asses a couple times now, but I think it's about time you moved on."

Jesse froze. His mind replayed the words, trying to find another meaning. It was a joke. It had to be a joke. "What?"

Ben seemed completely nonplussed at Jesse's reaction. "Don't get me wrong, you're hot as hell and a great fuck, but... Claire and I have something going. We work well together, and we love each other. This life just isn't for you. You said it yourself, y'know? No point in fighting it."

Each breath fluttered in his lungs like a razor-winged butterfly. The floor felt like it was shifting under his feet. "Did- did I do anything wrong?" Jesse said, his voice small. "I thought- I mean, things between you and me..."

Ben's brows furrowed a little. "What... y'mean what I said?" He cracked a humoring smile. "You've never said stuff just for the sake of it soundin' sexy while fucking?"

Jesse's hand gripped the counter at his side, certain he'd crumble otherwise. It took a few seconds, and more strength than he thought he had, but he managed to twist his mouth into something of a smirk. "Well, yeah, of course. I was just worried you were starting to mean it." His voice hitched slightly at the end but he managed to recover. "So. I guess I'll just grab my stuff and leave now?"

"Well I mean, I'm not bootin' you out the door," Ben replied, shrugging his left shoulder. "If you need to take a day or two, get yourself sorted, it's cool. Hell, if you're up for one last hurrah, I'd be up for it."

Despite the heavy twist his stomach gave, Jesse almost said yes. Wrapped up in the two of them, he'd been in the safest place in the world. But he knew better now. The illusion was broken. He shrugged. "No. I mean, might as well just head out now. Let you and Claire start your alone time."

"At least sleep on it," Ben insisted with a slight frown. "You can light out in the morning. We still care about your well-being, man. You're our friend."

Jesse's hand clenched at his side, and he knew he wouldn't be able to get a word out around the lump in his throat. He nodded. Ben gave him a nod and a faint smile, his expression bordering on sympathetic.

"Gonna head out there, then. Seeya in a bit."

And then he slid out through the door, shutting it behind him.

Jesse's legs gave out. Collapsing slowly to the floor, he took deep, gasping breaths. He wouldn't cry; he wouldn't cry. Part of him had always known, after all, that this was the truth. Everything had been too good and too easy. It was never like that with anyone he wasn't controlling.

***

The bed was comfortably warm when Jesse woke. He let out a long breath before opening his eyes, looking down at Ben's arm, draped over him with familiarity.

And then he remembered.

His body felt like it turned to stone even as his heart ramped up. Had he hopped into bed last night from the floor? Or had he just crawled right on in? He couldn't remember. Had he gotten drunk? Shit...had he given in after all?

_Go, go, go, go now._

Swallowing hard, he gingerly tried to shift from under Ben's arm. Ever the light sleeper, Ben immediately flinched awake, his arm tightening.

"Whuzzgoinon?" he mumbled, face pinched in a tired scowl.

The arm felt like a noose around his lungs. "Nothing," Jesse said, his voice hoarse. "I'm... I'm just gonna get dressed and head out."

Ben looked sideways to the alarm clock on the table. "Where? It's Sunday. Nothin's open."

Jesse swallowed. If Ben was just going to kick him out, why couldn't he just treat him like shit instead of caring. "Doesn't need to be. I was thinking I might head back to Australia for a bit, but who knows?" He forced his voice to sound light. "Should get in some world travel I guess."

That woke Ben up in a hurry. He all but sat straight up in bed, turning his body sharply towards Jesse's. "_What?_" he exclaimed. "What the hell brought this on?"

Tensing, Jesse stared at him. "Y-you. You told me to go so you and Claire could be together," he said. Ben returned his stare like he'd grown an extra arm out of his forehead in the course of the sentence.

"No, I didn't. Fuck, I wouldn't even say that if someone had a gun to my head." He blinked at Jesse, then his brow furrowed in concern.

"But you did!" Jesse pushed himself, his expression strained. "In the bathroom, last night, I was..."

It hit him. He couldn't remember what he'd been doing before he was brushing his teeth. And he didn't remember changing, or getting into bed, or anything beyond the bathroom. With a jerk, he was out of bed and rushing to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him before Ben was even able to react.

"Jess?" he called, genuine alarm in his voice. He got up quickly, moving to the door. "Jesse, talk to me. What's going on?"

It was a dream. A nightmare. Jesse had thought the demon sent him horrors before, but this went beyond that. The terror and betrayal and confusion that had been worming inside him twisted into something hot and mean. He stood in the middle of the bathroom, fists clenched, teeth gritted so tight he could hear them creaking. The light flickered and he felt a vibration under his feet that was growing into a rumble.

_Too far, too far._

With a yell, he twisted and punched the shower tile. There was the crunch of ceramic and bone, but the flickering and rumbling stopped. Jesse didn't. He kept punching, even as the pain screamed at him and the tile cracked, flecks of blood flying from his split knuckles even as they healed. He was going to kill him. He was going to kill that demon a hundred times over. The sounds of Ben banging on the door and calling out to him didn't even register until the door flew open with the force of a strong kick. The wood splintered around the hinges and Ben burst in, looking all too much like he did when he was in the throes of a hunt and rescue. His chest heaved with effort.

"Jesse, what the hell-"

Spinning around, Jesse's eyes met Ben's like frozen fire. Ben didn't want him to leave. That was all that mattered. Even as his hands burned, the bones reknitting, he took two steps forward and grabbed Ben by the back of the neck, pulling him into a searing kiss. Ben froze for a moment, his whole body going tense and his hands going up to grab for Jesse's forearms, but he didn't pull away. After a moment of confusion he allowed himself to respond, his lips parting to the demanding invasion.

Jesse's tongue thrust eagerly in, his hands twisting up into Ben's hair as he held the kiss so long he started to get light-headed. When he finally pulled back, his grip didn't loosen.

"Tell me you want me," he demanded, power shoved into the words. He wasn't going to risk Ben saying no.

All the confusion emptied out of Ben's head, heat and desire flaring in him like a flashbomb. Though he couldn't move his head due to Jesse's grip, Ben pressed his body into Jesse's like a needy cat.

"I want you," came the parroted answer, his tone heavy with lust.

With a twist, Jesse shoved Ben against the wall, once more spearing into him. His legs straddled Ben's, rutting eagerly as he scratched trails down Ben's chest. Ben groaned against Jesse's mouth, his hands grabbing hold of Jesse's hips and pulling him even harder against him before hooking one leg around Jesse's.

Pulling back from his mouth, Jesse tangled his hand in Ben's hair. "You're mine," he growled, lifting a leg to press up against Ben, who gave a needy whimper in response. "Got it? Mine."

"Yours," Ben echoed, pressing into the touch and tilting his head back into Jesse's hands. "Brand me, mark me up, so everybody knows. _Please._"

Jesse bit down hard on his neck then sealed his lips over the skin. Ben cried out wantonly, his hands tightening on Jesse's shoulders. His hand scratched over Ben's pec as his thrusts became more erratic and needy.

'_Yeah,_" Ben whined, his hands abandoning Jesse's shoulders to shove into the small space between them, pulling insistently at his sleeping pants. "Yours, always yours, _fuck_ Jess- take me, fuck me, I want it, I _need_ you to, _please-_"

Alarms went off in Jesse's head and, almost like popping his ears going down an elevator, he felt human again. Albeit human with a raging boner. "No," he breathed, closing his eyes. "Later. I just... I needed..."

Some of the fog cleared from Ben's head, but even then instinct drove him to take what was so willingly available to him. His hand dove beneath the elastic of Jesse's pants, finding his cock and giving it a tug as he claimed Jesse's mouth. Giving in with a whimper, Jesse's hips immediately snapped into the touch. He'd been near the edge as it was, and it didn't take long to send him over. He gasped into Ben's mouth as he came, his body quivering.

It was Jesse's fading throe that finally eased the frenzy from Ben's mind, though his full return to awareness was edging on painful. Anxiety rushed to fill the spot that the lust left - mostly due to the fact that Jesse had let his desperation take control of him - but the very fact that he'd drawn the line was enough to keep it from staying for long.

Wiping his hand on the fabric at Jesse's hip, Ben brought his hands up to take the older man's face in his hands.

"You don't have to _make_ me do anything," he said against Jesse's mouth. "I don't need to be helped. I _wanna_ do those things to you, Jess. I love you." He pressed his still clothed and aching groin into him. "I'm confused and hard as all hell right now, but I still do."

Guilt and gratitude washed over Jesse in equal measure, his eyes downcast. "I know. I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry," he said again, knowing he couldn't say it enough. Ben hushed him by pressing his mouth against his, moving his hands to Jesse's hips and pulling him against him, grinding into him to ease the ache.

"If I need to say it every day and be the girl here, I will," Ben said against Jesse's mouth before kissing him again. "Mock me all you want, but if that's what you need, I'll do it. Look at me."

Jesse met his eyes, swallowing. "And you're sure I'm not just making you say all this?"

Ben's left hand slid up to the back of Jesse's neck, fisting the short hair before pressing his forehead into Jesse's.

"Yeah. Considering where my head was just now, I think I can say for sure that this is all me." He rutted into Jesse again, then gave a frustrated laugh. "You bastard."

That managed to pull a smile onto Jesse's lips and he gave Ben a quick kiss. "I'll make it up to you," he said. Grabbing the hem of Ben's pants, he pulled them down as he got to his knees. Ben swallowed hard, feeling his heart flip over in his chest. On the one hand, Jesse had never got him off in such a submissive position before. It was _incredibly_ hot. On the other, it was clear by the tantrum he'd had only minutes before - despite the fact that it felt so much longer - that he needed comfort right then, not to feel more responsible for the state of Ben's traitorous body.

"You don't have to do that," he said, trying to sound as soothing as he could.

"Thought you knew by now that I don't do anything I don't want to." Jesse's expression grew tentative, though, his hands pausing on Ben's thighs. "As long as it's what you want, too."

It took everything Ben had to keep from groaning. "I think I kinda like this side of you. Not so cocky, eh?" His hand came up to slide through Jesse's hair. "If you're asking whether or not I wanna fuck into your perfect mouth then yes, I do. Badly."

Giving a shiver, Jesse slid a hand around the base of Ben's cock as his mouth slid over the head. This wasn't the time for slow and easy, and he eagerly dipped lower, lips touching to his fist as he gave it a twist. Ben's shoulders slumped forward as he leaned back against the wall, his hips tilting toward each movement.

"Fuck yeah, that's it," he praised, his hands coming up to settle against Jesse's head. "Fucking perfect, _god_, I love watching your lips wrapped around my cock."

Jesse moaned in response, his tongue pressed hard as he pulled back then dipped low again. His throat gave a panicked little flutter as he went farther than comfortable, but he was determined to take in as much of Ben as he could as he picked up the pace. The depth did not go without notice, and Ben's head lolled off to the side as he let out a low, desperate noise, fighting off the urge to thrust in harder.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, fuckin' suck it," he growled out, his hands moving to hold Jesse's head steady as he gave a few shallow thrusts. The simple adjustment from receiving to taking was enough to send fire racing through his veins.

"_Yeah,_ with that gorgeous fuckin' mouth, just _made_ to suck cock." His right hand drifted around to run his thumb along the curve of Jesse's cheek, then downward along his lower lip, glancing off his own erection as it slid effortlessly in and out. A shudder racked Ben's body. "To suck _my_ cock. Nobody else gets to have you like this but me, _nobody._ You're _mine._"

Jesse shuddered, his cheeks hollowing as he eagerly sucked at Ben. He didn't move, letting Ben guide the pace even as his hands gripped tight to his thighs. He looked up, desperate to watch Ben react. That brief moment of eye contact was all Ben needed. His fingers twisted tightly in the short strands as he tried to pull back but Jesse's grip tightened, refusing to let him pull out. Ben cried out as he came, unable to keep his hips still as he thrust toward the source of his pleasure. Jesse swallowed him down, his fists clenched and his expression pinched, but taking it all.

Ben's legs trembled with the force of it before he felt his knees start to give out. Jesse's hands were instantly at his side, guiding him down the wall until they were nose to nose. Smiling, Jesse pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"You're such a fucking badass," he teased.

"Shut up," Ben panted with a breathless laugh, moving one hand up to the back of Jesse's head and pulling him in for a kiss.

Jesse let himself be pulled into it, his tongue quickly pressed forward, determined to keep Ben breathless. It only took a few moments for Ben to catch on to what Jesse was trying to do and when he did, he very nearly giggled.

"Anyway you should talk, shooting off like a virgin," he said around another kiss. "I barely even touched you."

A blush blooming in his face, Jesse nipped at Ben's bottom lip. "Fifteen years too late, jerk."

"Yeah _okay_, technically not from where I'm standing," Ben countered as he slid his other hand down Jesse's back before settling on his hip.

The blush deepened. "Shut up," he mumbled, nuzzling the mark he'd left on Ben's neck. He felt Ben shiver.

"Make me," he said, nipping at the shell of Jesse's ear.

Jesse froze a moment before curling closer against him, his cheek against Ben's chest. "Never."

There was a tangible shift from playfulness to something else, and Ben's brows knit together until he realized what he'd said. A flash of shame sparked in his head before he adjusted his body against Jesse's, arms circling around him to pull him closer.

"Then you're just gonna have to get used to me ribbing you," he said against Jesse's hairline. His hand drifted quickly downward, giving him a short goose before smirking. "Bitch."

Jesse jumped, giving a snort. "We should probably clean stuff up before Claire gets back." But he didn't move away from Ben. He liked how it felt, and he could hear Ben's heartbeat.

"We've got time," Ben murmured in response, his voice a low rumble in his chest. After a moment, one hand slid through slide through Jesse's hair. For all that the thought incited mixed emotions, he couldn't help but remember how his mom used to come in and comfort him when he'd had nightmares as a kid. He didn't know how often that might've happened for Jesse, considering he'd told them he never dreamed, but having that comfort had made all the difference in his life. He knew without a doubt in his mind that his mother loved him.

"Nothing's gonna change how I feel about you and Claire," he said quietly after a few moments of silence. "You're my family now, regardless of whatever happens."

The words made Jesse's throat seize up, all the more because he hadn't expected them. He nodded against Ben's chest but it was a bit longer before he could speak again. "How do you kill a demon?" he asked quietly.

Ben chewed his lower lip, his face pinching in thought as he tried to remember what he knew. In all truth, a demon couldn't be killed conventionally. He knew from the books about his father that there had been a gun once, and a knife, but he had no idea where either of them were.

"Don't think you can," he replied. "I mean... angels can. I know that for sure. There's s'pose to be a gun and a knife out there somewhere, but..." He swallowed. "My dad would know."

Jesse pulled back, looking at him. Ben had never talked about his bio dad before. Jesse had assumed he was dead. "Do you... Could we talk to him?"

Ben dropped his eyes off to the side and shook his head. "I don't know where he is," he said solemnly.

Biting his tongue, it took an effort for Jesse not to be selfish. "Sorry," he said, cupping Ben's cheek. "I'm an ass."

"No you're not," Ben reassured him, leaning into the touch. "It's not a big deal." That part was a lie, but he didn't want to get into that with Jesse just then. Not after everything else that had happened.

Leaning in, Jesse pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll call Lucas about it later." Ben nodded, leaning his forehead into Jesse's and closing his eyes as he sighed. Some of the good feelings that had settled like a comforting blanket around him slid away at the thoughts of his missing father. Normally he was able to lock away the yearning for him, but now that Jesse had triggered them Ben couldn't push them away again. His arms tightened around the other man. Maybe now _was_ a good time to talk about it.

"He left us. My dad, I mean," he said quietly. "Mom... she, uh... she raised me alone. I didn't meet him until I was nine, and I didn't even know he was my dad. He was just this... guy... who came to my birthday party."

His arms sliding around Ben, Jesse lightly nuzzled against his cheek. "That had to have been hard. When you found out."

Ben nodded slightly. "I mean, I don't think he knew. Mom never told him she was pregnant with me. I don't even think he meant to come, y'know? He was on a job in the area. I don't really... remember much about it. Sorta blacked it out, y'know? But... it was in a book I found." He chewed his lips as he tried to sort through his thoughts and feelings. "And I asked my mom about it and... well... he was there. He was there for a whole year when I was twelve, but I can't remember it." His voice broke off and his face pinched. "He got this angel to mess with my head. To save my soul or whatever. That's what my mom told me anyway. I left after I found that out."

Jesse's heart clenched. Someone had fucked with Ben's memory, just as he had done. He bit back his apologies though he hugged Ben tighter. Ben took a breath and let it out, letting his head settle back against the wall.

"I kinda... hate him a little, y'know? I mean, we were lucky nothing else came after us, but even if something had, he'd never know. He didn't want to even know we were safe anymore. I mean it's like... okay, you don't love us enough to wanna stay with us, sure, but he could've at least checked in every now and then, you know?" Ben swallowed hard, his next exhale shaky. "I wanted to know him. I mean, Matt's great, but- I wanted to know _him_, and he took that from me, like what I wanted didn't even matter."

"You have every right to hate him," Jesse said, quiet but firm. "He's got to be some sort of idiot to do that to you."

Ben felt his heart clench and release and closed his eyes, trying to fight the urge to argue. Despite everything, he couldn't hate Dean completely. Whatever had happened to him must have been so awful that he couldn't have been able to recover from it. He knew what jobs did to civilians sometimes.

"But I still... I still want to know him. That's why I got into hunting to begin with. I thought maybe... maybe one day he'd be on the same hunt as me and we'd run in, you know? Like Kat did with Claire."

"You might," Jesse consoled him, rubbing his shoulder. "It's a big country, and it's not like you can just look his name up somewhere."

"Even if I could, he's not exactly the type'a guy to have his name in the phone book," Ben said, giving a short laugh he didn't quite feel. "He and my uncle, they're kinda big names in the world, I guess."

That got an eyebrow raise. "Didn't know hunters had big names."

Ben gave a faint frown, the hand resting in the dip of Jesse's spine trailing absently across the bare skin. His eyes went a little unfocused.

"My uncle sorta started the last apocalypse."

There was a long pause. "I guess that would be one way to get your name known," he said lightly. Ben gave another humorless laugh.

"Yeah. Sam's sorta been behind a lot of the crap that's gone wrong in the world," Ben said. "Not because he wanted it to, it just... happened that way. And Dad would always go after him, to try and set things right."

Jesse's heart skipped a beat. Which was ridiculous. There had to be millions of Sams in the States. Who were also hunters. And hunted with their brother. "What's your dad's name?"

Ben's eyes refocused as he looked down at Jesse. Claire had asked him that same question, back in Detroit. He could feel goosebumps racing up his arms.

"Dean," he said softly. "Winchester."

"Shit," Jesse breathed. "I've met your dad. And your uncle. They... they're the ones who told me what I was, what was going on."

Ben could literally hear his pulse in his ears. He blinked at Jesse, speechless. Had they tried to hunt him for what he was? The rush of conflicting emotions was enough to drain some of the color out of his face. Jesse cupped his face, trying to wipe the worry away.

"They sort of saved my ass. An angel tried to kill me and a demon wanted to take me, but they told me I could choose for myself what I would be," he said, unable to keep from smiling. "For some reason I picked Australia, but they let me pick it."

"So that's why..." Ben mumbled, his eyes refocusing on Jesse's again. His next smile was a little more genuine. "Some vowels going flat and the others taller." He leaned into the touch again and let his eyes fall closed, breathing deep. He could feel a cramp in his leg from sitting on the tile for as long as they had, but he didn't care. Jesse was there and wanted to be with him, while his dad had left. That had to amount to something.

Leaning in, Jesse pressed a kiss to his lips before pulling back. "Probably have spent enough time on the floor now. And I still don't know what we're going to tell Claire about the door, you fucking caveman," he teased.

Ben snorted with sudden laughter, then poked him in the ribs deftly. "Hey, you were freaking out and Hulk-smashing the shower, what was I supposed to do? Wait until you were done?" Ben nipped at his lower lip. "So we lose the deposit and you sweet-talk the head of housekeeping, and Claire gives us both the testosterone speech. She loves us. We'll be fine."

Jesse quirked a small smile. "Can tell her we were fucking against the door and it got out of hand."

Ben snickered again. "Yeah, 'cuz that'll make it more acceptable."

"Well I like it better," Jesse teased, kissing him languidly. Ben chuckled against his lips, his hands sliding up into Jesse's hair before pulling back just enough to breathe.

"Come back to bed," he murmured.

Leaning lightly against his touch, Jesse let out a sigh that ended in a soft, "'kay."


	28. Episode 15: The Road Less Traveled

When Claire had finally woken up, the tension in the car had doubled. Ben had managed to convince Jesse to hold off on the inquisition until they got to Maryland, but somehow that only seemed to make everything worse. He hadn't even slept in the same room with them that night, using the excuse that the double bed Izzy Gallagher had available to them just wasn't big enough to fit them all.

It left Ben incredibly anxious. He just hoped Jesse wouldn't bail in the middle of the night. Trust, he told himself. _Just gotta trust. He's promised._

Claire had barely spoken a word in two days. Worse than Jesse's flightiness, Claire not talking put Ben on edge. Even though Izzy offered to make them breakfast, Jesse had insisted he could handle it and ducked out without another word. Ben settled in the chair nearest the bed in the small bedroom off the main hall Izzy kept for guests, his laptop open although he didn't really register anything on the screen.

Claire hadn't known how long she'd been awake. It hadn't been long-at least, she didn't think it had been long, but it was hard to tell time when she was staring, slightly unfocused, at the tattoo on her inner wrist, laying on the pillow in front of her face. After her emotional dam burst on a pair of innocent men trying to do what they thought was right, too many things came into a frightening perspective for her-too many to handle all at once. She felt lost, drifting further and further away from Ben and Jesse because of her guilt, her doubt, and her fear. That alone was a strong reason for her silence in the last two days, but on top of it was a constant voice in the back of her head; one that didn't belong to her, trying its best to sever the last strings that connected her to them.

She was no stranger to being on a downward spiral, and each time before this, there had only been one thing that saved her life and saved her soul: her faith. Now it came full circle again, and she stood on the precipice being asked to take that leap. But the circumstances were different this time: _This time_ there was something besides herself being sacrificed-and part of that she could hear moving on the chair beside her.

Without warning and with barely a sound, Claire's focus on her arm blurred as she started to weep. Ben looked up at the sound of a small but sharp inhale, immediately closing up the laptop and shoving it off to the side as he crossed over to her.

"Hey," he murmured, crouching at the side of the bed, his arms sliding up to her face. "Hey, it's okay, I'm here. I'm here."

His sudden closeness combined with the touch only widened the crack of her resolve, and the tears flowed harder, even when her eyes closed. She put her hand on his with an almost desperate need, pulling him closer so she could cling to him and hear his heart beneath her ear.

Ben crawled onto the bed and circled his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him, kissing her forehead and petting her hair.

"Baby, I- what can I do? Tell me what to do," his lips grazed every bit of skin he could reach.

Opening the door, take-out bags in hand, Jesse hesitated. The room felt heavy, Claire's sobs twining around Ben's soft words. Watching them wrapped in each other, he knew there was hurt, but he also knew it would be alright. They would get through it together. With or without him.

He had half backed away before stopping himself. _They don't need you. But they want you._ And that was almost more important. Slipping into the room, he set the bag down and crawled onto the bed. There still wasn't much room and he had to press in tight behind Claire, but he happily wrapped around her. Despite himself, his heart ratcheted up, the angel flashing behind his closed eyes. He nuzzled into Claire's hair; here, he was safe. And if not, this was worth dying for.

Ben felt some tension ease out of him when Jesse finally showed up. They were together again, the three of them.

"Whatever you need from us, Baby, we're here," he said against Claire's temple. "And we're always gonna be here, okay?"

Claire didn't know how long she simply let herself crumble, safely locked in between their arms, but when the heat behind her eyes finally burned through all her tears, she realized what had been slipping her mind, lost in the stress of the last several months. She felt lighter, despite the pounding headache from crying, and the stiffness in her knuckles from holding on a little too hard, for a little too long.

She rode through the last shudder of unleashed emotion and took a deep breath. Her head leaned back against Jesse as she sighed it out; exhausted, drained, but with glimpses of a rekindled peace behind her red-trimmed eyes.

"...you smell like sausage," she muttered into Jesse's jaw, seemingly at random, but besides being breathy, her voice was light. "You always get me sausage."

"Who says the sausage you're smelling is yours?" he said, pressing a short kiss to her jaw. "But my sausage is always ready if you want it."

Ben shot Jesse a look over Claire's shoulder that clearly said _not the time_, then brushed his hand down the length of her arm.

"You hungry?"

A tired smile had appeared on Claire's lips, just a hair short of actually chuckling at Jesse's light-making. She squeezed his arm around her middle and met Ben's eyes. Her hand still twisted in his shirt pulled him forward so she could give him a kiss.

"Not really. Need to sleep off this migraine."

Jesse's thumb circled against her arm. "You want us to get lost then, or is it alright if we stay here?"

"Stay here," she answered, very quickly. Her gut reaction to the thought of them being out of sight when she woke up was jarring. "But go eat-I could sleep through a hurricane right now."

Ben nodded, stroking her arm again. "We'll eat in here. You rest." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Love you."

Reluctantly, Jesse pulled back after pressing another kiss to her neck. "Be here when you wake up."

The bed felt a little uncomfortably spacious when they slipped away, but Claire tracked them as she laid her head back against the pillow. The throbbing sinus pressure sloshed with the change of angle, finally closing her eyes. She fell asleep in minutes, to the sound of paper wrappers and quiet, comfortably familiar conversation.

* * *

><p>The incessant banging would not stop. It started out as annoying background noise, fuzzy and far-off, but with every moment of awareness it became louder and louder. A voice joined in on the sound, but the words were still unclear with both distance from the source and sleepiness. The smell of stale air and dry mold filtered into Claire's consciousness as sleep started to quickly fall away, and in one moment of sheer animal panic, she sat straight up on the bed.<p>

The realization hit her like a stone. This room was _not_ the one she remembered falling asleep in; Izzy's white-washed walls were replaced by those of some antique wallpaper with a flower pattern, and most of it peeled away. The bed sagged and squeaked and smelled of dust. Breathing hard, the _real_ source of her alarm was the fact that she was alone.

Except for whoever was banging to get in.

Somewhere in the distance, guns started firing. The banging became more insistent.

"Goddammit, Claire, open the fucking door!"

_Kat?_ Claire's already wide eyes went a little wider; a billion frantic questions buzzed through her mind as the sound of distant gun-pops and her mentor's urgent (and unexpected) voice drove her from nervous confusion closer to panic. She shot from the bed in a small cloud of old dust, shooting a glance out the broken window before unlatching the door and swinging it open.

The sight that greeted her nearly knocked her back. It was Kat, but she looked like _hell_. Like someone had dumped a decade of premature aging on the wiry woman. Claire half-stepped back, and gaped without breath, but Kat didn't give her time to respond. Grabbing her arm, she yanked hard and immediately started pulling her at a run through the hallways and out of the house.

They were barely out the door before Kat shouted out to the small group they were rapidly approaching:

"Clear!"

No sooner had they ducked behind the Jeep did the house explode in a burst of fire and sound. Pressed back against the door and being showered by grit and debris, Claire could feel her heart trying to rip itself out of her chest. Her ears rang with the swan-song of the blast, even under her palms. Where in God's name were Ben and Jesse? Where the hell did Kat come from? _What the fuck is going on?_

"What took you so long!" a small, round-faced young woman shouted over the din of gunfire and screams.

"It's called a damn ambush for a reason, Cal!" Kat snarled back. "Go on, get the others and head to Beta. We'll meet you there."

Cal immediately raced off on foot, dodging around the shells of rusted out cars and other debris as she moved. Claire tracked the unfamiliar girl with eyes as wide as saucers, finally taking in the wasteland of a landscape with all the gut-sinking newness of a coma patient. Overgrown medians, lines of abandoned cars, the heaviness of smoke in the air.

_I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming, I have to be dreaming_. But the burn in her chest felt more real than any dream she could remember. She could smell gun powder and sweat on the older woman beside her, as well as on herself. And Ben and Jesse were still nowhere to be found.

"Wha-where is..." she started, barely able to get words past her lips and tongue, which were suddenly bone dry.

Suddenly arms were wrapping around her from behind. "For fuck's sake, Claire, I didn't think you were _that_ drunk," came a familiar voice. "Dennis was telling me to blow the place early, you took so long." Claire immediately went stiff, twisting out of the grip by sheer reflex, and met Lucas's eyes with a wide, wild gaze.

_He_ was older too, and looking especially shocked at her defensive reaction. She held out an arm, looking between him and Kat as she kept herself at a distance from them, and had to fight a very strong wave of nausea and dizziness. Dropped in the middle of a battle, her memory seemingly wiped, her friends war-torn and talking about ambushes, her being drunk, and blowing shit up... Claire didn't know where to start.

"Hey, here's an idea," Kat snarked, "Let's have this conversation while we're getting _away_ from the goddamn crossfire, yeah? Esme counted twenty Nephs riding the wave after the demons, and we're sittin' ducks out here!"

"Right, shit," Lucas breathed. With a second, considering glance at Claire, he grabbed her arm, pulling her into a run. It was a short one, as they quickly came upon two bikes. Like Kat and Lucas, they looked familiar, but older and worn down. Grabbing two helmets, Lucas shoved one unceremoniously onto Claire's head. "Hop on," he said, doing so himself. She was about to pry the thing off and protest if it weren't for the sight she caught in the bike's cracked rear view mirror.

A rolling front of black smoke, moving independently of the wind. Claire's eyes widened beneath the helmet visor when she whipped around for a better look. Suddenly her questions could wait.

"Go go go _GO_!" came her muffled orders after scrambling onto the bike behind him, her hands twisted in his shirt.

Lucas didn't hesitate. The engine gunned, the bike practically leaping out from under Claire as they tore off down the road.

It looked like they were driving through a war zone. Everywhere Claire looked in the dim morning light were crumbled buildings and potted roads. A few streetlamps flickered, but that was the only sign of life. For a while, that is. Then she heard it: at first she thought she might be imagining it over the din of the bike, but it just kept getting louder. Voices. Loud voices, reciting one thing over and over: the exorcism rites. The cloud that had been following them suddenly recoiled, pulsing rapidly, then it twisted back and fled.

Giving a breathless whoop, Lucas took a couple more turns before they hit a wall of barbed wire and steel chainlink fence. After half a block, there was a break in the fence with an open gate and a well-armed group of guards. Lucas saluted as they went by before pulling in behind a couple of cars.

"Well," he breathed, taking off his helmet. "Skin of our teeth, eh?"

* * *

><p>It had been an hour since everyone else had returned from their last location, but even then the residents of Beta camp didn't stay still. Everyone was working, though Claire didn't know what they were working <em>on<em>. After they had arrived, Claire wandered the maze of shanty buildings, tents, and war-battered structures with eyes peeled for any sign of Jesse or Ben, though by instinct, she didn't ask about them. People stopped and nodded at her when she passed; people she'd never seen in her life who seemed to recognize her instantly. She had watched the choreographed chaos half in a daze, still very much convinced that this _had_ to be a dream. More like a nightmare, the longer she went without finding them. That's when she found herself back at the largest structure in the entire encampment.

After being in the camp for so long, the chanted exorcism piped through the speakers became almost background noise. It was dulled even further upon entrance of the main building. No doubt it was made with pure concrete, but upon brief investigation each door and window was framed with thick embedded iron rods.

More strangers made eye-contact with her as she wandered the cold hallway, further twisting her stomach with nerves. She was snapped out of the noxious fog that seeped around her consciousness with a sudden grip on her arm.

"I need to speak with you," Kat said swiftly. "Now."

The older version of the older woman Claire knew discreetly led her to what looked like an empty barracks, a medium sized room lined with five pairs of military looking bunk beds. Kat closed the door behind them to find Claire staring at an open locker on the wall-or rather, the magnetic mirror on the inside door.

What stared back was a sight that put bile at the top of her throat, and her palm over her mouth in sheer stunned shock. _She_ had also aged more than a handful of years. Her hair, pulled back in a messy twist at the nape of her neck, held traces of gray at the temples and a streak or two at the widow's peak. She was thinner, the hollow of her throat and points of her collarbone were sharper, more defined, and streaked with a mesh of raised scars from beneath her shirt hem up her throat to the bottom of her left ear. If Claire thought she felt sick before, she was on the verge of passing out on her feet now. Kat's hard expression quickly turned alarmed as the color drained from Claire's face. Her hands immediately moved to Claire's hips, helping her to sit.

"What the hell is going on with you?" she asked, her voice low and urgent. Claire stared at her, unable to even blink for a long time.

_I need to ask the same question_. The scars on her throat tensed with a thick swallow, and she looked away from Kat, closing her eyes for a moment of _severe_ concentration-just one more try to wake herself up. It obviously didn't work.

"Something-_happened_ to me..." she finally uttered, looking back on Kat's weathered face. "I...I don't remember..."

Kat's expression grew even more concerned. Her hand came up to rest on Claire's forehead, then shoved up her sleeves to expose her arms. Whatever she was looking for, though, was not present.

"In Lawrence?" the older woman asked.

Claire tried to put pieces of a puzzle that she had never seen before together, and it wasn't working, and always in the back of her mind was the question on loop: _Where are Ben and Jesse?_ She shook her head and pushed both hands over her face and brow, dropping them in frustration to her lap. Tears were threatening, burning like smoke behind her eyes.

"Kat, I-I don't know what's going _on_. Where _are we_?"

Kat was silent. When Claire finally looked up at her, her expression was sad.

"Clairey, we're in St. Louis. We got in last night, after we finished the interrogation. I had to take the keys from you, remember?"

_Interrogation?_ Among the million other things boiling in her stomach acid, that added another sharp edged stone. Claire swallowed again, meeting Kat's eyes, and shaking her head as a silent answer. Kat sighed, scrubbing her face with her hand as she settled on the opposite bunk, facing her.

"I know this is hard for you, sweetheart," Kat said quietly. "But y'gotta keep it together. We're all counting on you to finish this. You're the only one who can."

_Finish **what**!_ Claire wanted to scream it, and besides the utter desperate confusion and anxiety in her eyes, they flashed with every bit of that fire. Kat's words only brought a slew of new questions that didn't make it past her lips. Not yet. Something was fucking with her-a trickster, a dreamwalker, _something_ had attacked them at Izzy's house while she slept.

That had to be it. _Had_ to be.

Claire's shoulders tightened as she pulled in a long breath, and sighed it out through her nose, once again holding her head in her hands. She couldn't directly look at Kat in that moment. She was half-convinced it wasn't Kat at all.

"Just... gimme a few minutes to-" her words stopped abruptly. A sudden sound shot through her mind; shrill, unearthly, and _demanding_ her attention, like a migraine. She winced, trying to shake it off. "I just need-_nnaaaghh!_"

The sound returned with a hundred fold strength; it shot lightning through her spine and Claire covered her ears with her palms, to no use. She doubled over her knees, her face contorted in pain as her own dinning shout tried to drown the invading noise out.

"Claire? Claire!" Kat cried, dropping onto her knees in front of her and grabbing her shoulders. "Talk to me! What's wrong!"

"_...noise-!_" Claire managed to utter through gritted teeth. The sound was blinding, and painful as a searchlight after hours in the pitch black. Claire crumbled to the floor, her head about to explode.

"Oh god, _Lucas!_" Kat shouted, throwing the door open and racing out into the hall. "Lucas!"

The horrible sound doubled up, then faded and a booming voice took its place:

**[ Claire Novak. ]**

Her heart in her throat, hammering away in perceived pain and panic, Claire's teeth still gnashed beneath her lips as the voice echoed, sending ripples of uncomfortable power through her very blood.

"_Who are you?"_ she growled at the floor. She'd had the ethereal voices in her head before, but it was Kadiel's gentle, guiding tone. This was like a sonic boom through a megaphone.

**[ I am Amitiel. ]**

Claire's palm slapped the cement floor in order to brace herself from collapsing entirely. This angel's voice shook her on a molecular level, rattling in her bones. She felt like her blood was on a slow simmer, just barely on the edge of boiling over.

_Why...what do you want?_ Her other hand joined it's twin on the concrete, her fingers flexed, trying to find purchase, her head bowed between her shoulders.

There was an intense silence, then the volume of the angel's voice in her mind dimmed.

**[ I am here for you. To work through you. ]**

When the volume went down to a low roar, Claire sucked in a breath as if something heavy had been sitting on her chest-and that's the way she stayed, panting for a long, potent silence. First, she woke up in this _world_, this crumbling shell of a world, in a body that she still couldn't believe was hers, in the middle of a war she apparently had _a lot_ to do with. And no Ben or Jesse. Now... now there was _Amitiel_.

Claire sat back stiffly on her knees, her thin shoulders slumped as she turned her eyes upward. She had to think. Had to take this one step at a time, even if it was through the dark.

_Tell me what you mean. What's happened to the world?_

**[ You are my vessel. Heaven and Earth are coming apart at the seams, and with my help it can be stopped. Do you understand? ]**

Claire's heart twisted in on itself and jumped into her throat. She had to swallow around it as the gravity of the angel's words sank in. The explanation that the world was falling apart was vague and unhelpful-she could see that already. But the other part...

She understood, alright.

_Why don't I remember anything? Where're Ben and Jesse?_ Her thoughts answered him desperately. It was too much, _way_ too much to take in all at once. Claire was shaking, unaware of the tears that streamed down her face.

And suddenly it all stopped. The pressure, the voice, gone. It was a moment before Claire could really take in the hands cradling her, the strange new pressure against her head. There was something blocking her peripheral vision, but right in front of her was Lucas. He gave her a small smile, though his eyes looked pained.

"You back, Claire?" he said softly.

Pained and confused to the point of collapse, Claire peered through the motorcycle helmet's visor. She needed a minute for the whirl pool in her head to settle-a minute, or fifty years.

_Jesus-God, what's happened to me..._ Sitting back against the frame of the bed she'd collapsed beside, she finally pried off the helmet, and sighed against the bits of gold and gray hair that fell across her cheeks. "Yeah," she uttered, unconvinced. She was looking at the angel-banishing sigils etched in dried blood all over the thing.

_It's happened before._

Lucas bit his lip. "Look, I know you hate wearing it, but these attacks are getting more frequent." He glanced at Kat, as though for support. "Maybe you should keep it on. At least when we're out. It could get dangerous if the angels blacked you out in the middle of Neph battle."

"Or we could see about Dante giving you a tatt," Kat replied slowly, as though she'd offered the alternative before. Claire looked between them, feeling more and more drained by the second. With another shaken breath, she looked back down at the helmet in her lap before setting it aside, then got to her feet.

"It blocks out half my vision," she uttered half over her shoulder, toward Lucas, then to Kat: "And a tattoo is _too_ permanent." Here she was, trying like hell to sound like she knew what they were talking about. The bits and pieces were there with more being added with each conversation she had, but the big picture... the possibilities were terrifying.

Kat frowned. "So what, you're just gonna let that dick keep jumping into your head?"

Claire's lips pressed into a thin line as all the air in her lungs pushed out in a hard nasal sigh. Every muscle in her body was tight, still ringing from the 'conversation' with this Amitiel, who apparently had been paying her regular visits in this-this _world_. There had to be a reason. There had to be a reason for all of this.

"Look, I-" _don't know. Can't remember. Have no idea what's going on._ Claire closed her eyes and leaned her forearm against the row of lockers between the beds. "I can't close _any_ possible options off." She sighed again, this time through open lips, which uttered just over a whisper, the afterthought: "...there's too much at stake."

Lucas rested his hand on her arm, rubbing gently. "It's alright. We don't mean to make you hash out old arguments. We're just worried about you." He paused, and when he spoke again, his tone was graver. "I know we're getting close, and that you want their help in your back pocket, but... You're going to have to face it sooner or later, Claire. Even if you get to him, the man we knew is gone. After what he's been through..."

Kat settled down beside her, circling an arm around her hip and giving her a light squeeze. Her expression was also drawn.

"Killing him would be a kindness," she finished for Lucas.

Their words seemed to be aimed in a certain direction, shedding more light on a situation Claire was coming to realize was more horrific than she had ever allowed herself to imagine. All at once, the bricks fell in place: the Nephilim, the demon cloud, the angel... The big missing pieces were Ben and Jesse, and by their tone and worn, sympathetic looks...

Claire felt like she couldn't breathe.

Curling her fingers into fists to hide the way they were shaking, she forced herself to filter her burning thoughts through logic; putting herself in the shoes of this older woman, who's war-torn body she inhabited.

"I need to lay down for a bit..." she said, letting her voice trail with a look up to them both. Hoping there was a place she had here to herself. It made sense that if she did, all her stuff was there.

"Of course," Kat said gently. She gave Lucas a well-aimed look, then carefully helped Claire to her feet. "C'mon, I'll walk with you."

* * *

><p>Just as she suspected, in the small cell-like room that were apparently her private quarters, Claire found the spread of information she'd been hoping for. Everything was laid out in her own style of organization, notes spread on the desk and the cot that served as her bed-which looked like it'd never been slept in-a web of maps and scratched notes pinned to the wall, all in the style of a regular hunt. But this one had been going on for a lot longer than a week or two.<p>

Apparently this war had been going on for _years_, and the majority of specific information that was highlighted, circled, and underlined over and over all had happened over the last twelve or thirteen months, given her guess at the time of year.

And all of it had to do with Ben and Jesse.

There was a gentle rap at the door, and a moment later Kat let herself in, shutting the door behind her.

"You all right, Clairey?"

Claire looked away from the wall of tracked movements, red strings, and thumb tacks, meeting Kat's eyes with what felt like the heaviest look in her life. She slowly looked back to the board, following the line of information for the eighth time in an hour.

"Good as I can be."

Kat moved into the room, settling in a chair by the table. Though Claire couldn't see her, she knew Kat was tracking her with her eyes.

"How's your head?"

"Throbbing," she replied in the same foggy tone of voice. A little movement in the corner of her eye drew her gaze to her own reflection in the darkened window to her right. She'd let her hair down in an attempt to relieve the headache, but only then realized how long her hair was. Uneven at the ends, too, like it hadn't been cut by a professional in a decade. The scars on her chest and throat caught the yellow light from the overhead bulb with uneven, gnarled shadows. Subconsciously, Claire traced them with her fingertips.

"What the hell happened to the world..." she breathed, almost unaware that she'd said anything at all. Claire was beyond the notion that this was just a bad dream. This was reality, and she'd missed a huge, important chunk of it. Kat let out a sigh, then a small laugh.

"Somethin' that was always bound to happen, I'm startin' to think," Kat said. "Just the whens and how-fors hadn't been figured out yet."

"Amen." Claire idly wondered if Kat knew just how true her words were. The raised and twisted flesh under her fingertips carried only muted sensation, but somewhere in the back of her mind, Claire could only imagine what it must've taken for the nerve endings to become so deadened. She wondered what else she'd missed. She also wondered if she was better off not knowing.

"So go on," Claire started, turning around in the uncomfortable desk chair to face her oldest friend. She had to bite the bullet and find out more, if she was going to survive this-if she was going to save the boys. She had to go about it without looking like the amnesiac psych ward patient, too. Kat was just opinionated enough to be her best bet at wringing out information without actually asking for it. "Tell me what you think."

"Honestly?" Kat stood up, moving over to the web board and trailing her finger along one long thread of twine. "I think it was too easy, getting that lackey to squawk. It's probably a trap."

Claire's jaw tightened as she watched the older woman. The interrogation she spoke of was completely non-existent in her head, and that wasn't something she was supposed to forget. She sighed, hesitant.

Kat turned to look at her, her brow furrowed as she studied Claire's face. "Were you really that hammered?" she asked softly.

Claire looked at her directly, feeling a pang of strange, phantom guilt. This was the second or third time in less than five hours someone had commented on her being intoxicated. The ghost of a smile turned up the corners of her lips, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"I guess so," she admitted with no memory, the words were soft and felt rotten in her mouth. Kat sighed, a hand coming up to squeeze Claire's shoulder before dropping as she followed the line of twine again.

"God, I'm so glad Lucas went with you. We'd've had no way of knowing if you'd been by yourself. But then, that's probably what Jesse wanted." Kat sounded so angry she could've spat.

Everything working in Claire's head suddenly came to a screeching halt. She felt her eyes go out of focus for a second as Kat's words bounced around her head. _...what **Jesse** wanted?_ She looked up at her, trying to keep her voice level, despite the extra uncomfortable kick in her heart beat.

"Wouldn't be the first time..." Claire hoped there was another explanation coming for that comment than the one that was in her head.

"Don't remind me," Kat answered, rubbing her eyes briefly with her free hand as she tapped on the map location. "I'm a little surprised you didn't sneak off in the night like you did in Arcadia." Claire's eyes snapped to the spot that Kat pointed out. Arcadia was Ben's home town. Notes there in her own handwriting were vague on the details, save for one thing: that was the point where her apparent hunt had gone into hyperdrive.

"Maybe I learned my lesson," she said vaguely, trying to dig out more. Kat let out a ghost of a laugh.

"Yeah, that's why you got black-out drunk and locked yourself in."

_No help, Kat_. Claire rolled her lips and sighed, doubling over her lap to put her head in her hands. Everything that she and Ben and Jesse had been trying to stop had come to pass; however it had happened, the world had been torn apart at the hands of demons and the offspring of the Fallen. Ben was gone, and apparently Jesse had something to do with it. More than that-if she pieced the notes together in the right frame of mind. He was at the center of it.

"Can you blame me?" she said flatly after a moment. "For trying not to remember...?"

"You throwing yourself to the dogs isn't gonna get Ben back, Claire," Kat uttered, her voice even. "And if you walk into this trap, Jesse'll have you, too. You're the only one who has any idea how to stop him. If we lose you-" her voice cracked, then faded to silence.

Claire's heart sank like a stone. So it was true... the idea that'd been lurking behind her thoughts during this whole-_thing_-that she wouldn't let herself fully accept until now. Without realizing it, she pulled in a shuddering breath, then forgot how to breathe entirely. Her eyes closed tight, though it was hidden by her hands and her hair, until she sat back and pushed it out of her face. She locked eyes with Kat.

"If I'm the only one, then I have to try, don't I." It wasn't a question.

"Not alone," Kat said firmly. "I've lost everything else in my life. I'm not losing you."

Claire forced a thick swallow around the knot in her throat. For the first time since waking up in that musty, unfamiliar bed, she _felt_ Kat's words-that she wasn't alone. She took the older huntress's hand, almost weakly, and held it between her two, as if she could syphon off some of that strength, even if it didn't come with confidence. Again, Claire's head hung between her shoulders, and shook, twitching her too-long hair.

"How did we get here..." she muttered almost under her breath, her voice trailing. Kat pulled her hand free, wrapping her arms around her and hugging her tightly.

"You want the long version, or the short one?" came the muffled voice at her temple, a hint of dry humor coloring the words. Claire rested her brow against Kat's shoulder, just wishing to disappear; to go back to the world she knew. To get out of what was truly her worst nightmare.

"Short. Then long," she breathed. A twist of almost painful nostalgia made her chest tight; suddenly Claire felt like she was nine years old, buried in her mother's hair. Her voice fell considerably. "Remind me what I'm doing."

"Surviving in a world broken by men and monsters," Kat replied, one hand smoothing across Claire's shoulders. "Same as the rest of us."

* * *

><p>Waking up in the middle of a post-apocalyptic world with no idea about the last twelve years was jarring enough. Finding out that you're the apparent ring-leader of one particular pocket of resistance fighters, and your former companion, friend, and lover was at the center of the end of the world-and the one you were fighting-<em>whole different story.<em> And that wasn't even all she had to process.

Claire spent the first leg of the caravan-like journey in a silent daze, that is when she wasn't pouring over the faded, wrinkled blue-prints of Fort Knox and the _pages_ of handwritten notes. Apparently all the work, pain, and sacrifice of the last year was coming to a head in the next day. Jesse and Ben were hoarded up in the former military base, which was (likely) swarming with demon infested former military. The twenty-some dedicated fighters accompanying her into the Lion's Den all carried the same somber readiness in their eyes, when they all met up at a predesignated spot after taking separate routes.

Everyone was quiet, but kept busy. Claire watched the nearby fire from her perch on the tailgate of a beat-up F-50, one of several of her own journals open in her lap. In a time when she needed the most focus and determination than she had ever needed in her life, all she could do was picture their faces, as she last saw them.

"Hey." Interrupting her thoughts, Lucas settled next to her, his expression warm. He tapped the open journal. "Studying up before the big exam, eh?"

Claire looked sidelong at him, a mildly distracted smile of greeting on her lips. Like normal, now, it didn't reach her eyes. She was also still getting used to seeing them all the way they were-she wouldn't even look in a mirror if she could help it.

"Like always," she said quietly, closing the journal. Her blue eyes focused on the middle distance in front of them as she sighed. "I still feel like this is the first time I've cracked open the text, though." _More than you realize._

"I can quiz if you, if you like," he teased, but his expression quickly softened. He settled his hand over hers. "I know I'm not behind this plan 100%, but it isn't because I don't think it will work. I do. You've been smart about this, Claire, and tenacious. You make it even possible. I just don't know if the end result will be what you want."

Claire looked down at his hand over hers. Though she knew the gesture was supposed to sooth and offer support, in the circumstances, it came with a mild note of discomfort, but it was put on the back burner when Lucas continued. Her brows pushed down over her nose as she looked at him.

"Go on." She was biting back on something in order to let him continue, and though she tried to hide it, such could be heard in her voice.

Lucas took a breath before meeting her eyes. "That last interrogation, the demon saying how-how Ben was no fun anymore, that he'd stopped crying and hardly even screamed now... When we heard found that recording four months ago, I knew I was hearing a broken man. And now... His body might still be alive, Claire, but the rest of him is gone."

On the outside, her expression changed very little. Her features hardened a bit, her throat tensed when she swallowed, but on the inside Claire could hear herself screaming. Even without specifically being at this all-important interrogation or hearing this... recording, Claire'd pieced enough of the puzzle together to get an image she couldn't burn out of her memory.

She pulled her hand back and looked down at her journal just for something to focus on, to calm her insides so she could think.

"If there's a chance-" she finally said after a moment, her voice sounding thin. "-then there's always a way." That was her only stable hope in her sea of uncertainty. "I don't need to tell you you'd be surprised what you can live through."

His hand pulling back to rest in his lap, he nodded, studying her face. "Every day." There was a heavy silence between them before Lucas shook his head, forcing the weight off his expression. "Oh, hey. I got this from Abel; thought on this mission, you'd want to have it with you rather than in safe keeping." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a worn, silver locket, holding it out to her.

The orange glint from the nearby fire caught on the necklace's sheen, drawing her eye the moment it appeared in his hand. Her eyes switched between it and Lucas's face, trying to read his expression on top of the explanation. Her thumb nail found the crease and popped the locket open.

On the right side was a tiny picture of Ben, though older like the rest of them, rugged and war-torn, but smiling that cheesy, rakish grin like whenever he won a bet. On the other side, an equally beat up picture of herself, as well as an eight or nine year old girl cradled under her shoulder, snuggling in close. The girl's features were fair and soft, touched by baby fat, with Claire's father's dark hair and bright denim blue eyes.

Her thumb traced the edge of the open locket, knowing what it was when her mind didn't fully. _God, please, no._ She stared, unable to look away, however hard she wanted to.

Lucas's brows came low over his eyes. "Claire? Are you okay?" One hand came out, as though to take her arm, but he pulled it away.

"...yeah. ...sorry." Claire was still staring until she heard how hollow her own voice sounded. Her eyelids fluttered, dropping two uneven tears that she didn't know were there. Her insides felt scraped out, each bit of new piece of this life she missed taking another layer, leaving her closer and closer to an empty shell. She closed the locket and turned it in her fingers, and caught the faded etching of an engraving, stitched out unprofessionally in what looked like her own handwriting. It read: _Annabelle Jessica Braeden : 10-17-35_

Claire shook her head, rolling her dry lips. She felt like her tongue was made of steel wool. Her voice, rasp. "No. No, I'm not okay, Lucas..."

With only a moment more hesitation, Lucas leaned forward, wrapping her in a hug. "I know. She should be here. They should both be here. We'll make him pay, Claire."

Claire was too clouded to process everything beneath Lucas's words. She simply inhaled deep, suppressing the shudder as best she could, and clung to him, her face buried in his shoulder. She could feel the locket chain digging into her hand, twisted around her fingers. The deeper the notion sank, the tighter she squeezed. She'd had and lost a child...a _daughter_... and didn't even have the memories to hold on to after she'd been taken.

"Thank you," she uttered weakly, trying like hell to swallow impending sobs. "Thank you for keeping it safe."

"Always," he said, his hand running over her hair in soothing strokes. "You know I'd do anything for you."

In that moment, despite Lucas' consoling efforts, Claire further understood why she apparently turned to the bottle. The sharp bite of something strong would've been a very welcome distraction. His words replayed again in the front of her mind, shifting her focus to questions about the formally skinny research hound she thought she'd left in Vegas. The years she couldn't remember seemed to have hardened him, just as they did everyone else-but those words and that tone were anything but. She wondered how long he'd been with them.

Claire pulled back gently, regarding his face, her lips pressed into a thin line before she looked back down at the necklace in her palm. "I'm glad you're here," she said finally, in earnest. Him and Kat, both-without them, she would've gone off the deep end within hours of waking up.

Lucas studied her back, a tension in his face that hadn't been there before. His lips parted, and he took a sharp breath. "I..." The words stopped short, and he swallowed. "I think we ought to get some sleep. No more studying, okay? You're ready."

_Sleep_. Somehow the idea seemed a million miles away. He was right, though-if by simple exhaustion alone, she would have to rest for the next day. They all needed to. Sighing, she nodded and gently slung the locket over her head, and arranged her hair out from under the chain. "I can't promise I won't just lay there in the dark," Claire uttered, camaraderie in her tired voice.

He gave the ghost of a laugh. "Same here. But we can always hope." Giving her shoulder a final squeeze, he stood up. "See you in the morning." Claire gave him a one last small smile and a nod before standing up herself. Her knees felt weak, though. _Everything_ did.

"In the morning..." she breathed as she turned, heading for the pup-tent she and Kat were sharing. It was meant as a reassuring farewell, but the hollowness in her stomach made her own words feel so much more final.

* * *

><p>They were back on the road again by first light, and to a surprisingly quiet road. Too quiet, in fact. About an hour into the drive, Kat signalled that they all pull off to the side of the road. They were 30 minutes out from Fort Knox, and they hadn't seen Nephs or demons since the last town.<p>

"I'm liking this less and less by the minute," Kat said, hands on her hips as she watched the people piling out of their vehicles. Claire squinted into the orange glare of the sunrise, then swept the quiet horizon. There were rolling hills and lush trees, exploding with the colors of autumn, but little else. Even the wind was still.

"The drawbridge is down," she said, the colorless metaphor did nothing to settle her stomach. Funny thing was, on a deeper level, Claire not only expected this, but she felt like she'd been preparing for it for a long time. She took a deep breath and looked at Kat, then at the gathering of ragged hunters and renegades that pooled behind her. Lucas' eyes were steady and unwavering on her as he gave a nod. Claire swallowed thinly, but nodded back, truly appreciative of the little show of support.

Her eyes swept them all, studying each unfamiliar face that looked back at her with a kinship that could only be built over time and harsh experience. They were about to storm a place that had been deemed impregnable when it was run by simple humans; now the demons that swarmed it with Jesse at their helm not only expected them, but were laying the path down, like a walk to the gallows.

"It's been a long road," she started, then breathed in deep, trying to give her voice a bit more solidarity. "A _really_ long road..." Claire's eyes found Kat for a moment, then moved away when she wet her lips. "One way or another, it's ending soon. If you're not ready, no one will blame you for turning back."

A few people shifted with obvious discomfort at her statement, but nobody left. A burly dark-skinned man in the back with tattoos and a shaved head spoke up over the heads around him:

"We can't let you have all the fun!"

A small wave of suppressed laughter moved through the crowd before everything went quiet again. Claire smiled faintly, letting the small amount of laughter act as a temporary salve to what felt like mangled nerves.

"Our world is circling the drain-not like it was when we were kids. I can't even imagine what horror stories each one of you has," Claire hoped the quiver that she could hear in her voice wasn't loud enough for anyone else to pick up on it. She felt like an actor without a script, but the scene was set anyway, and they were all looking to her to move it forward. She spoke on instinct and a tiny flicker of hope that she'd find them both inside, and right this whole thing. "That's why we can't let it go on... or there'll be nothing left for our own-" her voice broke. She swallowed to correct it. "-our own children."

Kat found one of her hands and laced her fingers between her smaller ones, squeezing tightly and not letting go. The young woman who had been there when Claire awoke and now stood at the front of the crowd gave her a sad, thin-lipped smile, one hand holding her left arm as she watched. She might have been seventeen. Claire focused on her, and felt a wave of new sadness for so many similarities she saw between herself and that girl.

She squeezed Kat's hand back, and didn't let go. Her mind wandered over the endless pages of notes and plans she'd poured over for the last forty-eight hours, one phrase in particular had not made sense until very recently; it was repeated over and over in her own hard-pressed handwriting. She steeled herself at the belly and held her chin high, but in her eyes, there was nothing but worry, sadness, and pain.

"Cut the head off the snake..."

The hunters - men and women, young and old - threw up their hands, weapons held high, and joined voices in shouting back:

"And the body dies!"

No one's voice rang louder than Lucas', his jaw clenched with determination. Water gun at the ready, he stepped up to Claire's side. "We're ready."

Claire watched them all for one more silent moment, then her eyes turned skyward. What she uttered in her mind was not a prayer to God or a call for Heavenly help, but a promise to herself; to calm her nerves and steel her veins. _Over soon. One way or another._

She met Lucas and Kat's eyes and nodded once, then looked over the small band of hunters, nodding to them. "Let's go."

The crowd immediately dispersed, heading back to their vehicles. Claire had barely fallen into step behind Kat when she felt a distinct voice in her mind yet again.

**[ You will not survive this, Claire Novak. ]**

Claire felt everything in her body tighten up with the deep echo in her head. _Amitiel_. She recognized the angel now, who had thankfully learned to turn his volume down so she didn't collapse in a heap on the road. His presence was about as welcome as his words.

Her only outward reaction was a hardened look in her eyes and slightly stiffer movements, but she slipped into the passenger side of the Jeep and slammed the door. _Maybe, maybe not._ Her eyes fixed straight forward as she answered him.

**[ There is no maybe; You will die. This is suicidal. Do not let your life amount to nothing. ]**

Claire's eyes closed; a deep stab of natural fear combated her resolve, but it wasn't enough to make her fold. _If that's how you view my life, you have a surprisingly narrow perspective._ Even in her head, she could hear the pride in her voice. The dogma from her childhood knew that pride was sinful and caused downfalls. At this point, she did not care.

_And what would you do differently, Angel._

**[ Let me aid you. Every one of these people will perish if you don't. You know this, deep down. ]**

That opened her eyes, though they were mildly unfocused on the road in front of them. Claire looked across the seat to where Kat was driving, then back to her own rear view mirror, catching hints of the vehicles in line behind them. She shifted in the seat, pushing her hands in her jacket pockets to keep them from shaking.

_I barely know anything. You can aid me by telling me why I don't remember the last twelve years of my life._

The gravity of the voice in her mind deepened with the weight of the message: **[ Your memory does not change the fact that this will come to pass. It is unavoidable. These people will die because of the choices you are making, but you can stop it. ]**

Her question went unanswered, and Claire's voice was silent; even when the truth was hard to handle, Kadiel had always been straight and blunt with her, at least to the best of her given ability. The seed of suspicion had been planted, though it was overshadowed by the rest of the Seraphim's words. Claire's jaw set, and her eyes closed again, wearily.

_How can I stop it..._

**[ Embrace me. Allow my spirit to fuse with yours. I will sever the head of the serpent, and you will be my sword. ]**

Claire's stomach flipped, then twisted in on itself at how much of a part of her was already willing to accept. She'd been worn down to the nub, and they were down to the wire. The angel was right-she understood the gravity of their siege, and that it would likely consume them all... but she had to try. The one, seemingly minute detail besides her fortitude to get to Ben and Jesse made the corner of her lip turn up in a faint, colorless smirk.

_Not from the parking lot. Did you not notice the sigils written all over the place?_ She'd seen them in the scouts pictures. Every window, every flat plane of brick or siding, the archaic writing that barred angels from entering, in dripping blood.

"You're quiet," Kat said from her side, breaking up the inner dialogue. Claire looked at her friend, so grateful in that moment for her voice.

"Wanna sing showtunes?" she countered dryly, though there was a dark humor to it. The thought of riding to their deaths belting out Green Acres made Claire really want a drink.

* * *

><p>Going by the <em>extremely<em> hard-to-get blue prints of Fort Knox, the plan had been to infiltrate the place by using the three separate sub-basement systems and coming up beneath it. Out of a list of equally as impossible prospects, that plan seemed to be the most likely, even if the chances were extremely slim.

But they didn't expect it to be _this_ easy. Not a single sound greeted either team as they snaked through the ventilation system and spilled out into the dimly lit concrete hallways of the massive main building's basement.

They were barely through the first door when at least fifty bodies filled the small hallway space, eyes inky black and expressions filled with malice. Lucas and Kat immediately opened fire - Lucas with the holy water water blaster, and Kat with the shotgun full of rocksalt rounds. Yet even as the bodies fell aside, new ones filled their vacant spaces.

"Cal, hit it!"

The young girl following in the rear immediately punched the button down on the boombox they'd brought with them that was strapped to her back. Out of the speakers came the same exorcism chant that had been playing through the loud speakers in Beta camp. The demons started recoiling immediately, screaming with rage as their bodies started to blur.

"Keep moving!" Lucas yelled, shouldering past demons even as black smoke filled the air. Some demons sprinted ahead, away from the chant and up the first flight of stairs. The hunters weren't far behind, but apparently they were expected. There was a twelve-year-old girl in the open foyer. The burly hunter who had first spoken up in support of Claire was first out, barking at the girl to stand down. But then he stopped midstep, turned sharply on his heels, and shot Cal right through the head. There was a volley of shots in return, taking the Neph girl down with a scream.

The Claire that had lived this war would've been hardened to the sight of a firing squad of hunters opening up on a child, but that Claire was gone with the rest of her memories, and she had a hard time imagining her soul had not just filled with boiling lead. Her eyes lingered on the girl as the group pressed forward, Kat and Lucas at her sides effectively kept her momentum going until she could push through the shock a second later.

Another mass of gunfire echoed somewhere down another nearby hallway, but it didn't stop. Battle cries and screams melted together in the distance. Claire's ears were ringing with them, even as she forced her focus to the memorized layout in her head. _Second hall, seventh door._ Her heart pounded in her throat, listening through the undefined chaos, as she counted the enormous vault doors, all eerily lit by the red-glassed security lights. As they opened the next door, five children were waiting for them.

One young boy's gaze fixed on him, Lucas immediately stumbled, grabbing the wall as he slid to his knees, gasping. Another girl strode towards them with all the confidence and hard stride of a 200-pound cop, a chain in her hand.

Kat, without even flinching, brought her gun up and shot first the boy, then the girl. "Keep going!" she shouted to Claire and the others. "I'm right behind you!" The adrenaline that rushed through Claire's veins mixed sickly with what she was truly unprepared for; child-soldiers that cut through them without wincing. She was still reeling from seeing the first gunned down, along with the girl-Cal; her round face still burned behind her vision as she tried to find her breath and reason.

She snapped out of it when another blast threatened to shatter her right eardrum, and on dazed instinct, she raised her pistol at the hardened face of one of the remaining three; a blond boy, barely ten years old. But before she could squeeze the trigger, a phantom vice pressed the barrel of the gun into itself like a collapsed straw. With a growl, she chucked it at him and bolted toward Lucas, snagging him up by the arm. He quickly righted himself at her side, taking down one of the Neph children as Kat finished off the other.

Before they even got through the door, though, screams and shouts rose up behind them. Claire turned to see demons filling the hall, pushing through the hunters by sheer numbers. A jerk at her elbow pulled her through the door with Lucas and Kat was quick to follow, slamming it shut.

"Where's Ty?" Lucas asked, his voice alarmed. Kat shook her head.

"Didn't make it."

The door all but shook on its hinges as dozens of hands bashed on it, the handle twisting over and over as they tried to shove the door open. Kat leaned back against the door, trying in vain to keep it closed.

"There's too many of them, you've gotta go on!" she hollered. Claire met her eyes, her initial fierce disapproval and alarm of that idea was clear as crystal-but she was right. The doors quaked with another volley from the other side; the three of them couldn't hold it long, and then they'd be swarmed and everything would've collapsed. Their only chance was getting through, and doing it quick.

She snapped a look to her other side, to Lucas and then back to Kat, bracing against the doors as they jarred on their hinges. "I won't be long," she promised thickly, then pushed off down the hallway for the center vault doors.

"Claire!" Kat called suddenly. Claire turned at her name, but kept moving backwards. Kat gave her a thin-lipped smile that contradicted with the emotion in her eyes.

"Don't miss."

Claire had to swallow the stab of fear and adrenaline laced emotion that came with Kat's look. In the end, she just pressed her lips together and nodded curtly, then headed on. She hadn't gotten far before there were running steps behind her, and she turned to find Lucas catching up.

"Kat said your job was more important than door duty, and you might need a second person along," he said. Claire looked worried, but nodded. There wasn't time to give the issue debate. If she sent him back and they all survived this, Kat would verbally tear her a few new ones anyway.

The hallway bent at a sharp angle to the right, and the slow descent into cooler, but still stale atmosphere signaled they were on the right path. At the bottom, a pair of blast doors had obviously been shut at the time when the Fort went on lock-down whenever the war reached its gates; now it was busted open. The remains of the thick, frayed metal looked charred on the ends. Claire slowed, feeling her stomach twist. She curled her fingers around the handle of the old enchanted bowie knife hilted at her hip; something that apparently Ben had never left out of reach since they found his father years back. Another something she didn't remember.

Lucas reached out, touching her arm with just enough firmness to stop her. His gaze was fixed on the doorway and he raised his water pistol. "Show yourselves, now," he barked. "Or I'll toss an iron-shot grenade your way."

There was a long pause before three demons stepped out into the open.

"No need to get testy," said the middle one. "We're here to take Claire Novak exactly where she wants to go. Don't get in our way and you get to live."

Stepping ahead of Claire, Lucas didn't bother to speak. He just shot a stream of holy water right at the demon's face. The demons immediately pulled back, their eyes going black. The one on the far left sneered.

"Looks like they're not up for playing nice."

"It's more fun when they're not," the third replied, his sneer turning into a malicious grin.

Shooting apparently evil psychic children wasn't something on Claire's normal reference list, but dealing with demons, she could handle. Especially when they were this pressed for time, and this _close_. Her free hand brushed Lucas's side to silently let him know where she was, the blade spun around her thumb, just once, before she lunged, bringing it down at an arc across the right demon's throat. Light flashed from the wound as the creature collapsed. The second, however, was more ready as he attacked Claire. Still seething from his burns, the third went after Lucas, struggling over the pistol.

The arms that clamped around her from behind could've been made of steel. The demon hoisted her up, sneering into her ear as she gritted protests through her teeth. "Y'know, this'd be a lot easier if you just-"

Letting the pistol go, Lucas backhanded the demon and kicked out his knee before jerking around to grab the one that held Claire. The struggle didn't last long, though. He felt iron fingers grip either side of his head, and he only got a chance to take one sharp breath before there was a snap. Claire saw him crumple bonelessly at her feet, his final shock the only thing left in his empty gaze.

Her eyes wide and a scream of rage stuck in her throat, the demon behind Claire looked down at the heap, his face twisted with amused glee. "See? Now that happened." The other chuckled, stepping over Lucas. Claire kicked and thrashed, but it was useless in the iron grip that carried her further into the vault.

* * *

><p>The vast space the vault opened into hardly earned the name anymore. Rugs and furniture had been brought in, creating three distinct spaces that some twisted mind might consider a home. To the right was a shining conference table, filled with papers and surrounded by maps so that it looked like a set of a retro '00s action movie. In the middle was a circle of sleek couches, the longest facing six screens. Only one was on, and Claire recognized, as it flipped different camera angles, that it must be a security feed.<p>

To the left was what could have been the set of another movie, a very different kind of movie. Chain-link fence had been installed along the walls, and hanging from it were objects that could only be described as implements of torture. In a bare space hung empty shackles. No rugs to be seen over here, the only thing that adorned the cement floor was a two foot long chain. It was too short for the man it tethered, so that even on his knees, he had to hunch over.

"Claire."

Jesse stood from the couch, a wide, friendly smile on his face. Unlike everyone else in this world, he looked hardly changed. A little broader; a little sleeker, in his pristine button-down shirt and tailored trousers; the slightest hint of maturity touching his temples and the corners of his eyes. But his smile was the same.

"You finally made it," he said, arms open in welcome. "I was beginning to think you hadn't received my invitation."

For all that she had tried to prepare herself for this, the warped reality of what Jesse had apparently made of the world hit her like a sledgehammer-especially Jesse himself. Her struggling had slowed out of shock, the same that sharpened her widened eyes. They suddenly burned with a stabbing ache that shot through her chest. Her eyes slid to the half-obscured figure leashed to the floor, then back to Jesse-bile boiled in her blood and at the back of her throat.

_Jesus, what drove you to this..._ Her mind reeled, dizzy for a moment until one of the arms that held her still caught and pulled at the locket around her neck. The little bite of pressure made her go still; her whole body buzzing with a rigid dangerousness, and her eyes locked on Jesse.

One corner of Jesse's mouth curled up, and he didn't blink as he looked back at her. "Boys, that's no way to treat a guest. Let her free."

The demons seem to hesitate, the one holding Claire more so than the one holding the knife, but they obeyed.

The instant Claire's feet touched the ground and her arms were given leeway, she struck the one behind her with an elbow to the nose, then spun toward the other, relieving him of the blade after shattering his forearm. The first reeled back, then recovered and lunged, but caught Claire's fist and the knife through the right ear. Her eyes blazed at the smaller demon as she yanked it from the larger's skull. The last didn't have time to hide the wave of fear on his face; she was on him in two half steps and a slice across his throat. In less than three seconds, they lay tangled on the floor with the life flashing out of their wounds. Claire stood in the middle of it, and finally breathed.

Jesse's slow applause echoed through the room. "Color me impressed," he said, his hands coming to rest comfortably on his hips. "I'd heard you'd become a nightmare, a thing of brutal beauty. Glad I got to see it for myself."

Breathing hard, a bloody knife slowly dropping ruby globules at her side, Claire couldn't help the way she bristled at his tone, even if she didn't fully understand the context. It made sense, after everything she'd learned, but the realization of what she'd supposedly become sickened her.

"What happened to you..." she finally was able to utter around the knot in her throat. There was no more pretending she remembered the chunk of crucial time that'd been stolen. Despite Jesse's change of appearance-which was far more kind than everyone else, including herself-she could still see his face as she remembered it two days ago, holding her and joking about sausage.

That smiling face quickly turned into something hard and cold. Claire flew back, slamming hard into the wall. Through her daze she saw Jesse close his eyes and take a deep breath. As he released it, his expression fell back into a calm smile. The pressure holding her to the wall didn't ease up, though.

"You always did have a knack for going for the throat," he said lightly as he walked toward her. "But it'll take more than that to get to me, Claire. I've come to realize that you and your angels did me a favor, really. Everything became much easier when I stopped trying to be human."

One of his hands slid to her throat, the pressure more show than discomfort. He kept moving forward until his lips pressed over hers, hard and claiming. His other hand moved to hers, prying away the knife.

Her eyes clenched tight as her blood-slick fingers around the knife handle, but both were useless gestures-he had her pinned like a butterfly on cork board. Every inch of her ached with the pressure, but in that moment, Claire thought her heart would explode. The stark difference between what she knew of him and what he'd become was never more blindingly clear than in that kiss. It was fueled by hate and over-exalted power; he'd been so twisted, and under the rise of anger in her blood, she hurt for him so much.

But she also hurt for everything that'd come to pass, and she remembered the way she'd felt when Lucas told her about the interrogations and _Jesse's invitation_, which he so happily mentioned only minutes before. Her throat and the scars it bore tensed under his grip as Claire fought the phantom force holding her still, and jerked her head enough to sink her teeth into Jesse's lip.

His head snapping back, Jesse smiled at her. His tongue tasted the blood on his lip, the wound already healed over. "You always did like it rough," he said, giving her throat a squeeze before releasing it entirely. His hand hand travelled down her shoulder and then under her arm. "Let's see what other surprises you've brought for me."

His hands explored every inch of her, lingering over her breasts and between her legs. Claire endured the violation with a set jaw and eyes forward, a hard look of pained concentration on her face. When it was done, he'd come away with the knives that had been strapped to her thigh and ankle. Stepping back, he held the three weapons thoughtfully.

"This is it? All this trouble and you come at me with three knives and some useless kid in the hall?"

"I didn't come to kill you," she replied, her voice tight.

Jesse's laugh reverberated off the walls. "Really? This is how you're going to play it? I don't know if you've looked in the mirror lately, Claire, but you can't exactly pull off the innocent preacher's daughter act anymore." He walked back past the sofas, putting the knives on a table under the televisions. As he turned back to her, Claire felt the pressure released, and she fell unceremoniously to the floor. "Every member of your group who I had a little chat with gave me your message loud and clear: cut the head off the snake, and the body dies. Not bad advice."

Her mind was reeling as she pushed up to her feet. His words repeated as a chorus of battle-ready followers in her head, adding more sting behind her eyes. Claire closed them, forcing a hard breath through her nose.

"Jesse-" she started, then swallowed hard in an attempt to focus on the precise way she needed to say this. "I woke up two days ago with _no_ memories of the last twelve years. I don't have the slightest idea what happened to you that brought you-that brought _us_-to this point. The last thing I remember is being in bed with you and Ben in Maryland, in '24..."

While Jesse's smile stayed, it turned a bit brittle. His steps were unhurried as he walked towards her. "Is that how you want to do this? Talk over the Good Old Days and hope it invokes me to mercy or suicide? You might want to talk to our boy over there," he said, nodding at the chained man, "and ask him how that plan works out."

Claire refused to turn her eyes toward the cage-like corner of the vault, due to a very real possibility of crumbling internally if everything she'd been told looked her in the face. She kept her gaze trained on Jesse, though her body visibly tensed the closer he strayed. "_Look at me_, Jess-you **know** when I'm telling the truth. Everyone in this world knows you as _this_, but tell me you don't see something different from me."

His mouth quirked. "How am I supposed to know you? It's been a year since I last saw you, and it wasn't like we had much time for chitchat." He reached out, slowly running his fingertips along her scars. "All I know is that you probably would do anything to take me out. I know how I felt eleven years ago, and I imagine a child's love for their parent pales next to a parent's love for their child."

Though the words put no memories into her mind, there was an ominous heaviness to them that rivaled the weight of his fingers, and he carried it in his eyes. Claire knocked his hand away, but stayed where she was, locked in that too-intense gaze, piecing it together, one bit at a time... until the realization hit her all at once. Instantly, her features broke their hardness, her lips slightly parted to pull in a breath that wouldn't go past her throat.

She looked at him with disbelieving, broken blue eyes that threatened tears and a spark of something very dangerous deep in their depths. "...what-did you _do_."

For the first time, doubt touched Jesse's eyes, but it was quickly gone. "That's awfully dark of you, Claire. I'd thought the body was enough. But if you really want to hear how your little girl died..." His words were cut off by a hard, open palmed slap from Claire across his face, though the strike was only a tiny glimpse of the hollow agony behind her eyes.

"_You_ killed her..." she rasped in a voice barely able to work.

Grabbing her wrist, he twisted her arm behind her back, spinning her around to pin her bodily against the wall. "Alright, Claire," he breathed in her ear. "If you want to play ignorant, then I'll have to fill you in. Tell you how she cried, tears streaming from eyes just like yours. How she tried to struggle and fight, using the same moves you'd taught me. How the terror filled her little face when it didn't work, when she started to realize nothing would work. How she screamed the whole time for her mommy." His free hand twisted in Claire's hair, yanking hard even though his voice stayed even. "Sometimes I wonder, if she'd yelled for her daddy, if you'd be the one chained to the floor instead. But that never would have happened. You always were the protector, Claire. You should have heard how Ben screamed and screamed for you. But you always come too late, don't you?"

Even the sharp pain in her scalp and neck and in her screaming shoulder couldn't cut through the potency of his rancid whispers. Each detail tore another seam in Claire's heart, adding torment to the imagery he unwittingly put in her mind, all overshadowing the purpose she originally came for. The man she loved was gone, like Lucas had said, even if he wasn't speaking specifics-rage now consumed that once passionate fire.

Her eyes screwed shut as all her anguish escaped as a graveled cry between her teeth. Claire wretched her free hand from between her and the wall and arched it back, fisting in Jesse's hair and let her knees buckle under their weight, slamming his head into the wall with momentum. She turned under him and caught his temple with two hard jabs, then spun to strike the same spot with the back of her boot heel.

Jesse caught her ankle, and suddenly Claire couldn't move. Not a muscle, not an eyelash. With her precarious balance, Jesse was the only thing keeping her up. Using his free arm, he wiped the blood from his face onto his sleeve.

"Oh Claire. We were having such a nice conversation, too." He patted her leg before letting go, sending her toppling to the floor as he walked back to the knives. After careful consideration, he took two; the demon blade and the small stiletto from Claire's ankle.

"Get up, and come with me," he said, heading towards the man in the cell. Claire had no choice but to follow, to the dark, empty corner of the vault.

Jesse leaned down slightly, running a hand through the man's hair. Despite the surroundings, it was silky and clean, if longer than Claire knew. Giving it a twist, Jesse said, "How's my boy?"

His head forced to rise, Claire's eyes met the hollow, sunken-in gaze. Everything about his face was foreign but familiar: the deep hazel eyes, the faint widow's peak, the full shape of his mouth, the dip in either cheek that dimpled when he grinned, but all the life in Ben Braeden's face was dead. The only thing that even proved he was still alive was the way his pupils seemed to dialate at the sight of Claire, his breathing suddenly shallow.

Claire had been fighting the phantom will that moved her legs across the vault the entire time, but when the cruel sight Jesse had purposefully led her to steal her breath, Jesse released his will and she buckled forward. She landed hard on her knees, but the bruising pain didn't register; she breathlessly took Ben's face in her hands and pressed in close. None of her rapid thoughts could make it past the crushing emotion of that blank gaze, and all she could utter against his cheek were half-sobbed whispers of _I'm here_.

"Claire..." Ben croaked, his voice almost inaudible from obvious lack of use. "Run."

Jesse's hands slid over their shoulders as he knelt with them. "Now isn't this just like old times? Just the three of us." There was an edge to his smile before it was cracked with a hard lob by Claire's fist; all the intensity of a protective she-wolf in her eyes as she wedged herself between him and Ben.

And then she found herself crawling back against her will, sitting quietly just a couple of feet away.

"See that, Ben?" Jesse said, touching his jaw. "Claire loses her temper so easily, and you know how I don't like that. How about you help me show her what happens when people do what I don't like?"

Ben tensed up like a dog about to be kicked, shrinking back and pulling his long limbs against himself. Claire visibly shook, her fists clenched against the force that held her still. Her wide gaze burning holes in Jesse's face. "Let me go, Jesse!" she growled. " _C'mon_! You still have to cheat your way through a fight?"

He smiled at her. "If you're asking me to fight you like a man, Claire, my answer is I am not a man." To punctuate the sentence, he slammed his fist across Ben's face. His head was knocked back, but he hardly made a sound and let it hang down. Blood trailed from his open lips, pooling on the floor, and Claire stared in shock and forcibly suppressed rage. "But I have learned the value of doing things 'the hard way.' Ben's got an extraordinary amount of freedom to fight back; it's taken me a long time to teach him not to. You'll get your turn as well, but for now, I'm keeping you there so you get a good view." Pulling out the stiletto, he ran it lightly down the length of Ben's back, leaving a ribbon of blood. "Because whatever happens right now, Claire? Is all your fault."

Despite the well of fury in Claire's expression, streaks of water ran down the length of her face, belying the true depth of that pain. "_Why_? Because you can't stand what you've become, so you have to blame everything you do on someone else?" She spat her words through her teeth because of the strain of fighting her own body, keeping her planted right there on the floor.

Jesse let out a put-upon breath, getting to his feet. "Such a temper. I'm sorry, Ben, for what she's making me do to you." With a swift, hard kick to Ben's side that sent him sprawling and pulled a strangled sound out of him as the chain went taut against his neck, Jesse turned to consider the objects hanging from the wall.

The tears flowed faster from Claire's eyes, the noise Ben made stuck on repeat in her mind until she couldn't hear her own thoughts. She even looked at the dark vault ceiling, half wishing for the head-splitting boom of Amitiel's voice, but remembered that that hope was gone. Still shaking, her face twisted in anger and sadness, she looked on Jesse again. "God, _look at you_," she croaked. "We loved you. You used to be such a good man. What turned you into such a _coward_..."

"Oh Claire," Jesse said, gently taking a switch from the wall and turning to her. "I was never a good man. I've always been a Prince of Hell; I only used to fear that fact. Now I do exactly as I was born to do." He brought the switch down hard on Ben's back, right across the slice he'd made earlier. "I was born to reshape the whole of the world." Another hit. "I wasn't born to serve, but make all mankind kneel." Again. "You weren't meant to love me, you were meant to worship."

By then, Ben had collapsed face first on the ground, his body curled up into a fetal position as he helplessly tried to protect himself. The wound on his back bled copiously, split wide, angry and red, and his body trembled from the pain. Claire shook and gasped with every blow, until she couldn't stand the sight any longer.

"STOP!" she shouted, her voice cracked with everything that blazed in her eyes.

Jesse struck three more blows before tossing the switch aside. He ignored the shaking bundle at his feet, turning to Claire. "I decide when to stop. No one else. You'll learn that soon enough."

Looking down at Ben, Jesse shook his head. "He never fights it anymore. You should have seen how he fought in the beginning, Claire. But now... I know I trained him to be this way, but now that he's there, it's boring."

Ben stirred on the ground, giving a wheeze, his hands finally reaching out to clutch weakly at the cuff of Jesse's pant leg.

"Please," he rasped. "You have me. Don't- don't take her, too. I'll fight. I'll do whatever you want. Anything you want, it's yours. I'm yours. You don't want her, you want me."

Kneeling, Jesse smiled, running a fond hand through Ben's hair. "You are mine. But so is she. In the end, everyone will be mine." Pulling the demon knife from his belt loop, he considered it a moment. "I would love to see you try, though. You've shown more life today than in the past six months, and it would be interesting to see what a few months together would do to the two of you. However, I promised my Father I wouldn't draw this out any more than necessary." He plunged the knife straight through Ben's center to the sound of Claire's panicked scream of protest. Giving a hard twist, he kissed Ben's forehead before getting to his feet, leaving the knife skewered in the man. "Out with the old, in with the new."

Grabbing Claire by the hair, Jesse yanked her towards the chains on the wall, even as he released his frozen hold on the rest of her. She thrashed and kicked like a mountain lion, snarling as the pent-up resistance exploded against his hold.

Jesse's unnatural strength pulled her to her feet, slamming her against the wall. It was followed with a punch right across Claire's temple, snapping her head to the side. "This more like it, Claire?" he breathed, struggling to fasten the first cuff around her wrist. Claire whipped the hair out of her eyes, wild with pain and loss, and gritted her teeth, slamming her brow into his nose. The split second he reeled back was just enough for her to spit in his face.

"_Fuck you_!" she hissed, her lip peeled back as she pushed from the chain link, arched back, and cracked his cheekbone with her fist.

Jesse's head snapped back but his hands caught her first. "Oh, you will," he snarled almost happily. He twisted her arm hard and up before bringing his own fist down the wrong way on her elbow. Her bad shoulder jarred with a sick (and familiar) pop that Claire could feel through every bone in her body. The sharp breath she took choked off her scream, and the fence clanged on the wall as it bore her weight again.

Before Jesse could get another hit on her however, a body appeared just behind him. In an instant, the knife was shoved with force through the back of his throat and out the other side. His eyes widened in denial and horror as blood gurgled up past his lips. Eyes still on Claire, his body spasmed and he fell to his knees.

Ben stood above him, one hand pressed against his still bleeding wound, his face glistening with a cold sweat as he looked first down at Jesse bleeding out on the floor, then to Claire where she hung from the chains. He gave a hacking cough, which brought blood to his lips.

"I'm sorry," he rasped.

Her eyes wide and wavering, they slid up to Ben's face. The pain in her shoulder seared and throbbed, but it didn't reach her in that moment, not even as she strained it to catch him as he fell forward. The chain that still held her good arm pulled to its limit, Claire let out a sob of pain when his weight hit, but she didn't let go.

"No-" she pushed through a shuddering breath, her brow heavily leaned against his. "Don't you say that..."

Ben coughed violently again, her shoulder going wet with the blood. He made some distant noise that might have been a laugh.

"It was my fault," came the rattling reply. "I tried to stop him. Shouldda listened t'you. You were always the smarter one." He wheezed hard, his freehand twisting in her shirt. "I love you. Never forget that. I'll always love you."

Tears wet her face along with the blood smeared on her cheeks, nuzzled against him, holding on as tight as her arm would allow. "Just-hold on to me," Claire's voice barely broke past her breath. "_Hold on_..."

But the weight of his body against hers only got heavier until at last he sank to the ground, inches away from Jesse's now-lifeless form. Silence fell, total and all-encompassing around the empty vault. Claire sagged against the chain, against the wire wall, the last pieces of her heart shattered and churning in her stomach, as the tomb-like atmosphere surrounded her.

The only sounds that echoed in the empty space were her own breaths, which deepened, then broke into tight sobs. Claire hung against the chain and looked toward the black ceiling, her face contorted in perfect torment, until her eyes clenched and she belted a deafening scream to the shadows. It stretched as long as her lungs could hold it, until her throat caved on itself, cutting the sound off sickly-and she hung there in her own darkness, broken.

"Do you understand now?"

She jumped with a gasp, and felt a surge of sharp hope as her eyes focused on Ben, now miraculously alive... but something deep inside stopped the elation. The voice that broke the silence was familiar, but the sound utterly wrong. Ben stood up from the ground as though he'd only been resting. The clothing was the same, the blood still fresh on his shirt, but color had returned to his face and his eyes shone with a strange, ethereal light. Everything about his expression said 'stranger.'

Claire could do nothing but stare, gaping at the figure whose very presence left her emotions raw and red, like sandpaper on sunburn. Her heart was broken, and her mind wasn't far behind.

"..._Ben_..."

"No." His eyes moved to the chain still holding her in place, and it fell away with ease. The pain in her arm and shoulder disappeared a second later. She let out a breath of physical relief, but it didn't reach her eyes. They were still staring at Ben's face-or the being _wearing_ Ben's face.

"Amitiel..." The realization dawned, but she was still breathless and confused, still shaking like a leaf in November.

"Typically this is not how I choose to communicate," Amitiel said, his hands sliding into his pockets. "But I felt it necessary for you to see what would happen if you continue to travel with these men."

Claire's stunned silence continued on for quiet a while, while small pieces of the big puzzle fell into place. And with each one, her eyes grew harder.

"This world... this _whole world_, **all of it** was **_you_**?"

Amitiel's expression never phased from smooth and serene as he met her furious gaze.

"Not _exactly,_" he replied, his voice light. "I merely plucked you up and put you in the ending of your story. Everything that happened _will_ happen, should you continue along this path. Jesse Turner must die in order to save the world."

"Wait...wait a minute," she countered, keeping her eyes fixed on the angel-wearing-Ben's face. She knew what was at her feet still, subconsciously, and the hope rising inside of her mixed with complex emotions, helping to keep her focus where it needed to be. "So you're saying I'm still somewhere in Maryland, Ben and Jesse are fine, and the world _didn't_ go to shit...?"

"Like I said-"

"_No_-the future isn't set in stone, especially now that I _see_ the curve in the road." Claire interrupted the angel before he could go on. She _wanted_ to shove him, but that was just a lot of pent-up, righteous anger that he didn't seem to register. The angel only smiled at her.

"There is no curve," he said smoothly. Though Claire knew the face of the man the angel was wearing, and for the smallest, briefest instant, she saw it: a clear and obvious tell of doubt. Her lips pressed tightly together, watching him with all the intensity that he was watching her. Eventually, Claire's hand lifted to the locket around her neck. She ran her thumb over its engraved surface, which seemed to steel something in her eyes.

"Put me back," she said lowly. Amitiel sighed.

"Have you learned nothing, child?" he asked her, a touch of hardness to his tone. She smiled at him, but it wasn't a warm smile. It wasn't cold, either; more sad, and determined than anything.

"Just put me back where I belong."

Eyes narrowing, the angel took a step closer until they were nearly nose to nose.

"You'll see me again soon," he promised. Then, raising his hand, he brought his fingers together in a sharp snap.

* * *

><p>"I'm worried about her," Ben said quietly, putting his utensils down. His eyes hadn't left Claire's sleeping form since the moment she rolled her face away from them. "I've never seen her like this. Not even before you came around."<p>

Jesse shrugged, still concentrating on what remained of his food. "Things've been hard, that's all. She'll snap out of it."

Almost on cue, Claire opened her eyes. The next instant she sat straight up in the bed-the bed that she remembered, with clean sheets and the smell of breakfast and summer in the air. Ben blinked in surprise, his face pinching in a slight frown of concern.

"Hey, you oka-" Ben's voice of worry was shortened as Claire launched herself from the bed to tackle them both in the most heartfelt, enthusiastic embrace, covers still tangled around her legs.

Jesse instinctively jerked back in surprise, hacking as he took half his bite down the wrong pipe. "Fuck. Hi." Claire half stumbled out of the bedsheets, cutting Jesse off with a quick kiss, then turned, taking Ben's face in her hands for the same thing. When she pulled back, Ben looked into her eyes with a dazed look.

"Claire?"

But she was already facing Jesse, her palms firmly placed on the sides of his jaw, just as she had with Ben, but her eyes were wide and wild, and locked on his.

"_Promise me_ you won't ever, **ever** listen to anything that _fucking demon_ says to you." She switched here eyes back and forth between his, her voice contained a note of desperation. "_Promise me_."

Frozen, Jesse stared back at her, his stomach sinking. What had she heard? What did she know? After a long pause, he stuttered, "'Course. I'd never listen to him."

"Did he come to you?" Ben asked insistently, his eyes suddenly wide. Claire kept her eyes on Jesse's face, her gaze steadily softening from the slightly unhinged quality they contained when she first woke up. With a tentative breath, she leaned in and kissed him again, slower and more appreciative this time, before turning to do the same to Ben. She'd heard his question, but the answer could wait until she'd _fully_ reminded herself that they were both alive, and all three of them were whole.

"No," she started, almost breathless and _still_ shaking, the way she had been in the vault. "Other side of the big fence..."

If Jesse had been concerned before, he was verging on panic now. "Angels? What do they want? What did they say about me and that demon?"

Claire shook her head, slumping down to sit on the floor between them. She closed her eyes for a moment, still trying to calm herself down. "Nothing-I mean," she sighed, looking up to them both. Her eyes had a shadowed quality; seemingly older than they had been when she fell asleep. "One tried to show me a 'what-if' dream-" _Except that was no dream._ Claire's shoulders sagged under an invisible weight. "It... It wasn't pretty."

Ben felt a raw anger fill him at the mention of angels. If one got inside Claire's head, then that meant they weren't far. The same panic from their escape from Alabama filled his mind.

"Izzy's still trying to find a book about sigils or something else online. She hasn't found anything yet."

Jesse fought the urge to curl up on himself, but he couldn't stop staring at Claire. She looked...well like she had been through something closer to Hell than to a nap. And she'd come out of it with a message for him. It didn't sit well at all. "What happened?" he said quietly.

Claire pushed her hands through her hair, back to rub at her neck, and then suddenly slid her palm around her throat and chest, as if searching for something. The sigh that came afterward showed her relief for not finding it. She wet her lips and looked up at Jesse, then at Ben. Something twisted in her stomach, hard enough to taste. There was no way she could tell them everything... it was bad enough _she_ had to live through it.

"Short version:" she looked at Jesse again. "You go bad. The world goes to shit... and we all die." Regardless of the quip quality of the words, Claire's voice contained absolutely no humor. Ben slid out of the chair and onto the floor immediately, his arms moving around her. He could feel her trembling the moment he touched her, and instinctively he pulled her between his legs and wrapped himself around her.

"That won't happen," he said, putting strength into his words as he looked up at Jesse. "It won't."

Jesse shook his head, though he didn't move to join them. "I wouldn't," he said, only managing to be a little louder even as he put on the ghost of a smile. "I like the world as it is. Especially the part where we're alive." Claire looked at him from under Ben's comforting embrace. Her heart hurt again, the same she'd felt when she first saw him in the vault. On a deep level, it worried her, but on the surface, she could only concentrate on one thing.

She reached out and grabbed Jesse's hand from his lap, imploring him to her with her gaze and grip, looking ready to drop tears at any second. She wrapped one arm around his shoulders when he drew closer, pressing her cheek to his as she squeezed. Her free hand kept a desperate grip on Ben's arm. "Please," she whispered tightly, warm breath by his ear. "-_please_ remember we love you... Never forget that."

His throat feeling swollen, Jesse nodded again, arms wrapping around the both of them. He was afraid to ask what happened to make her say that, not sure he wanted to know what Claire had seen him do. It didn't matter that it had been a dream; he knew first hand how terrifyingly real those could be. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I'm sorry. I would never... I love you, and I'm not about to forget that."

Ben listened to the two of them talking silently, hearing the weight in each of their words and knowing deep down that he was missing something so much larger than either of them said. He felt real, genuine fear, but he pushed it down and away, concentrating instead on embracing Claire. One hand slid away from her, resting on Jesse's where it settled around him.

Claire's anxiety held steady and strong, still battling the relief she felt for being back in the time and place she remembered, with all the horror of the last forty-eight hours all but erased. The angel's words still rung in her head, every single syllable and promise, especially that she'd see him again soon. It was just something she had to deal with-for now, there was just _them_.

"Not gonna happen," she uttered again, reassuring them as much as herself, pressing a kiss to Jesse's temple, then leaning back into Ben as much as she possibly could-she couldn't get enough of the feel of him, warm and strong and alive. Her eyes opened, unfocused on the middle distance as she softly murmured the phrase again. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the part that was worried when Jesse had looked at her so scared, so uncertain, she **knew** that world would never come to pass-because if the road started to curve, she'd end it all herself.


	29. Episode 16: A Hard Day's Night

It seemed like all the talk about angels had Jesse once again on edge, but at least now he was okay around Claire again. Mostly. He was spending a lot of time with Izzy lately, following the older woman out to her garage while she worked and otherwise wandering the junkyard with her two dogs trailing behind. At least he hadn't run off, though. After Claire's dream, Ben had feared he would, but one good thing did emerge out of it: Claire knew what the sigils looked like. Not wanting to get a tattoo too soon when they weren't even completely sure if they worked, Ben had opted to buy a henna kit from a nearby new age store and let her put it on the both of them. He'd let her put it on his chest, on the opposite side as the anti-possession tattoo. Every time he caught sight of it in the mirror, he felt a little bit odd.

_Should've done the arm or something..._ he thought absently, working the edge of his razor slowly down his cheek.

"You know, I like the scruffy look," came her familiar voice from behind, warm, but still carrying the same weight it had over the last couple days.

Shifting the angle of his gaze in the mirror, He saw Claire was right behind him, her shoulder pressed lightly on the painted door jamb. Her hair was dry, but she was wrapped in a towel, obviously heading in for a shower. Ben met her eyes with a half-smile, sticking the blade beneath the faucet and turning it on briefly before bringing it back up to his face again.

"Well I mean, I already started," he said lightly. "Jesse would give me all kinds of shit if I only did one side of my face. I'll grow it out after this though, promise." Claire returned his smile, but didn't say anything after that. She simply watched him for a long, comfortable moment in silence. Too many things behind her eyes to give to voice.

There was a subtle intimacy about this that Claire clung to and cherished. Though her gaze was soft before, it softened further with each passing moment, to the point where she finally pushed off the jamb and padded up behind him. Her fingers, cool from the air conditioning, traced up the lines of his back and shoulders, then down his arms and back to his sides. She kissed the back of his neck and met his eyes over his shoulder in the reflection. There was heat there, but more so, deep affection and companionship; Claire wore all her love in her eyes.

Ben swallowed hard, putting the blade down. His chin and upper lip were still unfinished, but he figured it was a good compromise. As it was, he couldn't concentrate with the way she was touching him, and the look in her eyes was doing all kinds of things to his insides. Grabbing up the little damp hand towel, he ran it over his face and chucked it into the sink, turning around so he was facing her and letting his arms fall naturally around her waist.

"Is this another one of those things that I should do more often that you like?" he asked, his voice soft but amused. She quirked a brow at him over her own gentle, leaning smile, her hands also found their natural place on Ben's chest.

"Wasn't a suggestion-just an opinion." Her voice mirrored his, though it was soft and trailed off on the end as her concentration shifted to something else: the warmth of his skin, and the subtle din of a heartbeat under her right hand. She'd noticed both things with a distracting clarity over the last few days.

Ben's brows lifted slightly, but he remained silent, training his thumbs along the towel-covered dip of her spine and wishing it was bare skin. He didn't want to be so bold as to just yank the towel off of her, especially given the mood she'd fallen into after they'd arrived a few days ago. Instead he leaned forward and kissed her forehead, pulling her more tightly against him.

"I like doing what makes you happy," he said into her left temple. Claire said nothing besides giving a soft contented sigh that rolled down the hollow of his throat as she curled a bit more into him. Then she wrapped her arms around his waist, just to get closer.

"I love you," she finally whispered, just barely over her breath. Ben's arms tightened that much more. Claire was so careful with her words, always; not like he was. He threw words out more often than not without really thinking about the consequences, but Claire... every word she said, she meant.

She told him she loved him a lot in the past few days. In spite of the circumstance, he couldn't deny how much it filled him with elation every time he heard it. Brushing another kiss to her temple, he trailed his lips downward along her jaw, then lifted his hand to her chin to guide it up just enough to claim her mouth. Though the kiss was slow, it was all encompassing; Claire felt it ring in every corner of her body, closing her eyes and making her weak.

Part of her wanted to go on forever like this: surrounded by Ben, held up by his protective, needful hands and his perfect love. She loved Jesse, but she wasn't so completely off-guard and vulnerable with him, especially since that dream. Only with Ben was she so utterly defenseless, and in that moment, Claire would have it no other way.

"I'll tell you more, if you want to know," she whispered against his lips, one hand weakly caressed his face, her eyes stayed closed. The thought of reliving any part of her recent encounter with the angel, Amitiel, was terrifying, and there was a lot in that future that she couldn't bear burdening on either one of them, but she knew it worried Ben-this not knowing.

For a moment, confusion flickered in his eyes, but then Ben remembered. He brought both hands up to cradle her face, looking back and forth between her eyes with genuine sincerity and empathy.

"Only if you want me to know," he replied. "I don't wanna cause you any pain, y'hear me? You've been through enough."

She considered deeply for a moment, caught between needing to get it off her chest and being too scared to do so. Claire rolled her lips inward, then pressed them to his once, then again in a sheer need for the comfort.

_We had a child-a little girl..._ The sentence was plain as day in her head, but she couldn't  
>bring herself to say it because of the questions that the knowledge was sure to bring about; questions that she knew she didn't want to answer. Claire's shoulders tensed as she inhaled, then let the breath out slow, shaking her head.<p>

"Another time, then," she hushed, and kissed him again. She curled her arms around his thick shoulders and pulled herself close, her cheek nestled against his-she was surrounded by the aroma of his shaving cream mixed with his skin.

Ben sighed, his hand stroking her hair and his other arm holding her against him tightly. Cold fury pulsed just beneath his skin. Both Claire and Jesse were constantly made into targets. He hated that he couldn't find a way to help them outside of being supportive; it literally ate away at his resolve.

"C'mon," he said against her hairline. "Shower can wait."

* * *

><p>Body work was perhaps one of the most fun parts of working on a car. Granted, it left Isobel Gallagher's body aching and sore, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. All the banging and blow-torching was fantastic stress relief, especially when she hadn't heard from her boyfriend in four days. But that was the risk of dating a hunter, and Izzy knew he was safe. There were people that would get a hold of her if he wasn't.<p>

The GTO looked as though it'd been stuck into a garbage disposal, but the hood and sides were still well enough in tact. One door had come partly off its hinges, which was proving to be a bit of a struggle to work with, but after fighting with both the molding and the hinge for an hour, she decided to put it off until the next day. Maybe Ben would do it. He had a bit more muscle in his arms than she did, after all.

Damn, but she did miss the kid. It felt good having him around again, even if it was only for a while. The tension he carried in with him and his friends was thick enough to cut through, which made it a bit less-than-ideal, but Izzy knew how to diffuse tension. It was part of what brought hunters and other supernatural investigators back to her over and over again.

Well, that and her cooking.

The banging as she beat out the dings in the hood could be heard all the way to the house, but Shelby and Rex - Izzy's two dogs - hardly seemed to notice as they watched her from the beat-up old couch that sat on the far wall of her garage. She would need to weld on a few new pieces to patch up the holes, not to mention repainting the whole thing when she was done, but it was coming along at a good speed.

The dogs' gazes went towards the house, and Rex gave a low _wumph_, but they didn't seem all that alarmed. When Izzy glanced that direction, she saw the other boy, Jesse, walking into the garage. He smiled at her.

"I don't know whose face you're picturing as you hit that thing, but I'm glad it's not me."

"Nobody's face," Izzy replied, sweeping her hair out of her eyes with the back of her arm as she kept clanging away. "Honesty, I haven't punched anybody in the face in a long-ass time. Five years at least."

Jesse waited until another pause before saying, "Looks like you want to, though. ...Need any help?"

Izzy laughed, rubbing the back of her hand over her forehead again and flashing him a grin.

"Nah." She paused, looking up at the large wall clock above the couch. "Probably should take a coupla minutes'n have some water though. Maybe go do some huntin' 'round the yard'n see if I can find some more scrap pieces for the weld job. You can help with that, if ya wanna."

He shoved his hands in his pockets, nodding. "Yeah, sure. Want to help when I can."

Izzy rolled back onto her heels, pushing up from her knees until she was fully standing again. Being only about 5'2", she was a tiny thing, but she was built like a boxer: all compact muscle and strong, sturdy legs. Once her goggles and gloves were off she gave a low whistle to the dogs, grabbed up her water bottle and her chalk marker from the table with her tools, and lead the way out through the open garage doors.

"Why ya lookin' for somethin' to bang out, kid?" she asked him.

Though his stomach twisted, he gave a grin. "I'd settle for some_one_ to bang."

Izzy hardly even flinched, though she did take a deep swig of her water before laughing. "Can't help ya there, I'm afraid."

Very unsubtly looking her over, Jesse said, "You could if you wanted." Then he shrugged. "But in the meantime, looks like I'll have to settle for trash."

"You're right," she said, though she didn't go clarifying which part of what he said that she was addressing. Jed would've never known about the little misdeed, though they'd both decided early on not to restrict themselves to just each other. Life was hard. She wanted kids before she was too old to raise them properly, and he wasn't exactly the fathering type. Nevertheless, Izzy's inner Catholic wasn't too keen on polygamy, even in the mildest sense.

Besides, Jesse was just a kid. She had to be at least ten years older than him, though she'd never asked. If he was hanging out with Ben, he had to be at least in the same ballpark for age. Izzy shoved the thought down with another swig of water, strolling up to one of the numerous cars lining the wide corridors of her scrapyard. The metal on the roof of it was still good and smooth, and she marked up the side with a large white X.

"What's that mean?" Jesse asked, following after her.

"To come back with my buzz saw and a bin later," she replied. falling back into step with him, though her eyes continued to move around the yard. "Better to do it all in one go than as I go. Though," she smirked slightly, "I'm beginning to wonder if I shouldn't just ditch the old roof an' put on a new one, but then I'd have to mold it'n fuck that. I've got shit to do."

Jesse winced. "Yeah, they tore into it pretty bad. Bet you see that a lot, though, with what other hunters have to take on."

"Let's just say it's a lucrative business, what I do," Izzy said, her smirk widening into one cheek. "Most everybody who comes through here, it's obvious that they love their cars, considering how much body work I end up doin'."

"Yeah. Got to admit, I've gotten pretty fond of the GTO." Jesse scanned the junkyard, though he didn't know what Izzy might be looking for. "On the road, it's the only place you have that's a steady home."

Her voice softened considerably on her next words: "Sure enough."

Izzy unzipped the zipper of her coveralls and pulled off either sleeve as they continued to meander, switching the chalk and water bottle from one hand to the other as she did so. The dogs followed not too far behind, Rex sticking particularly close to Izzy's legs. Jesse kept shooting glances at her, quiet in his uncertainty.

"So how'd you end up being the go-to mechanic for the hunter crowd?" he asked before thinking about it.

Izzy shrugged one deeply-tanned shoulder. "Sorta just... happened," she admitted. "The hunter who helped me out sorta passed my name around. Money was tight fer'a few years of my life when I took this place over from my foster, and he knew it. They're good people. I cut 'em breaks where I can, an' some of 'em even know a thing or two themselves'n just need a place to sleep while they work, y'know? The guns'n ammo'n all that sorta came gradually, but I wanna help them."

"It never makes you...worry?" he said, scuffing a bolt out of the way. "They have to bring a lot of bad shit to your door."

Izzy shrugged again. "Nothin' I can't handle. Plus I've got a loyal customer base. Some shit comes bangin' on my door that can handle the heat'a my gun and the silver in my knife, I can call any one of 'em and they'll be here inna hour or less." She flashed a quick grin. "'Specially my cowboy."

Jesse's stomach gave a guilty twist, thinking of Ben and Claire in the house. Family. That's what Ben had called them. But right now, he felt so disconnected from everything. It was hard to believe it. He fell quiet as he followed her.

They remained silent for a few minutes while Izzy occasionally marked up the cars they found. It was a long time before she spoke.

"Ben ever tell ya how he knows me?" she asked, taking a sip from her water as she cast Jesse a sidelong look.

Frowning thoughtfully, Jesse shook his head. Izzy chuckled.

"S'pose he wouldn't. He keeps a lot of himself to himself."

Izzy stuck the chalk in her pocket, finding a nearby car to lean against as her eyes drifted up to the tall stranger. Rex and Shelby, following their master's lead, flopped on the dusty ground not too far from her feet.

"He musta been... twenty, maybe? Workin' a were job not too far from here. But see, most jobs in the area, I tend to do 'em so's not to pull people away from the work that's to be done elsewhere. I'm closer, I'm fast, most'a the stuff that hits the papers is cleared up inna day or two, but this were was a tricky sonuvabitch. Nearly mauled our boy." She looked off to the side for a moment, sipping at her water again. "I had to clean him up some. He had a bit of a fever for two, maybe three days. Almost ran right out my door sayin' he was fine, thank-you for your help, et cetera, but I wouldn't have it. So I went to snoopin' a bit, just to know if I needed to call somebody an' let 'em know he was safe, et cetera, but the boy's barely got a lick'a shit in his trunk for weapons, all his clothes are damn near threadbare, an' when he'd got his shirt off he was this skinny, bony li'l thing. It was no wonder the were nearly ate him for lunch."

Jesse's expression tightened with long-late concern, but Izzy laughed lightly at the memory. Obviously Ben was a very, very different person now. "I reckon he'd only just started out, the way he ran in there half-cocked, tryin'n t'be the hero. So I stuck his keys in my lockbox and made him sit the hell down for a coupl'a days, ran him through some tips to keep from gettin' himself killed. Days stretched on to weeks, though." Her smile leaned to the side, wide and fond. "Tell ya the truth, I think he might'a had a li'l crush on me and didn't wanna go."

Jesse's smile quirked, though with more levels of amusement than Izzy's. "Well that's not much of a surprise."

For the first time since they got to talking, a hint of color grazed Izzy's cheeks. She hid it in a gulp from her water bottle. "But come the end of the third month, he was itching to get out the door. He'd caught wiff'a some case that he wanted to do, God knows what, and I finally tossed him back his keys'n let him go. He didn't stay gone for long, though. I see him a coupl'a times a year, for supplies or some place to crash on his way somewhere, maybe a part or two for the Camaro. I was a little surprised not to see it; he loved that car."

With a shake of his head, Jesse said, "Never saw it. It was gone before I met them."

Izzy nodded thoughtfully. "Makes sense he'd ditch it, though, if he's traveling with the both of you. Though..." her smile quirked up a bit again. "That's quite a commitment for any man, I think, givin' up your car. Means he's plannin' to stick around."

Out of nowhere, Jesse's throat swelled up and he had to look away. When he felt more in place, he managed to say, "Yeah. Like I said, he got rid of it before I was there."

When he looked back at her he found Izzy's head tilted at him a little, her deep brown eyes searching his face. Then her lips quirked slightly, something of knowingness crossing her expression.

"So what's your story?" she asked, taking the conversation in another direction.

It was like someone put Jesse's brain on pause. He stared at her before forcing a laugh. "Well, I guess I'm like Ben; I like keeping things to myself."

"That mean all's it takes is'a bit'a whiskey to get it outta ya?" she countered, brows arching playfully as her eyes briefly looked him up and over.

His posture eased at the look. He shrugged. "Might not get the story, but you'll get something good."

Izzy laughed lightly, running her hand over her hair. Somehow, the more she talked to him, the more she found him charming. He reminded her a little of Ben when she first met him, flirting with her so shamelessly and with unbelievable lines. It was cute.

"I would never hear the end of it from him if I let one'a his friends see the color of my sheets before he ever got to," she said, laughter still brightening her voice.

"Doesn't have to be in your bed," Jesse said, giving her a wink.

Again she laughed, although this one was a touch warmer. "Now you sound like my cowboy. Careful, there."

He laughed back, much more at ease. "That is definitely the first time I have ever been compared to a cowboy."

Izzy tilted her head back, looking up at the sky. "That's just what I call him. My... I dunno, boyfriend? It's hard to put labels on hunters. But he's Texan, and he's got himself a mighty big belt buckle, and the name sorta stuck." Her grin all but split her cheeks. "I can tell he likes it because he blushes like a li'l girl every time I say it. Guess I got'a thing for boys who can say my name pretty."

Suddenly in such comfortable territory, Jesse sidled up a little closer to her, though he got another unwelcome _wumph_ from Rex. "I'll be sure and say your name a lot then, Izzy."

Izzy's head turned to look at him, just a flicker of surprise in her eyes at his sudden closeness. That same earlier color brightened her cheeks again, only this time it stayed.

"Isobel," she said. "Izzy's my short name. He calls me Bel, though." Her head tipped back again and she laughed a little, covering her eyes with her arm. "Why am I tellin' you this?"

He grinned, though his expression hesitated, his eyes glancing toward the house. But this was harmless. Besides, how jealous could they get, when it was already the three of them? "Because you miss someone calling you Isobel."

The moment he said it, her frame briefly tensed up and the smile hidden under her arm faded off. But when she pulled her arm away, her expression wasn't angry; it was a little sad.

"Yeah," she said softly, rolling her lips and wetting them before she looked at him. "I do."

Realizing he'd said the wrong thing, Jesse's expression fell. "Sorry. I'll stop and we can get back to-"

But he didn't get a chance to finish the sentence; Izzy grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him down hard before she pressed her mouth soundly against his. Eyes wide, Jesse gave a muffled cry of surprise before deeper instincts kicked in. He clapped a hand behind Izzy's neck as his tongue thrust past her lips. He lost himself in the frenzy of it, the old familiar ease of being wanted rather than needed or loved. It was simple, and his world narrowed on that fact.

Izzy pushed her hands into his hair, holding his head steady as she met his kiss with vigorous enthusiasm and pressed the length of her frame into his. While it was true that she hadn't heard from Jed in four days, she hadn't seen him in even longer, and her body yearned for the press of another's. It was easy to pretend that the man kissing her was hers - they were nearly the same build, their mouths both willing and their hair short - but the more she thought about it, the guiltier she felt.

_You don't have to go the full way,_ her mind tried to rationalize. But she wanted to, came the immediate counter argument. _Then you don't need to look him in the face. He probably won't even think twice to ask about it._

That seemed to be all the argument she needed, as a small, needy noise was swallowed up between their lips. The noise sent an unexpected pit of warmth to the center of him, and he found himself pushing her back until he found a car to press her against. The friction was amazing and he groaned back, shifting down to pull one of her legs up for better access.

Two layers of clothing all but blocked anything outside of the pressure, and as he ground against her Izzy found her frustration quickly coming to a boiling point. She needed more than pressure.

"My, but you're a great kisser," she said against his mouth, her words warm like honey. "How good are ya at massages? I could really use one right now."

The request took a moment to make it to Jesse's brain, and even then he didn't quite understand it. "Yeah. Sure," he said, a little breathless. "I guess I'm alright."

Izzy moved her mouth to his neck, nipping her way up to his ear as she spoke in a low murmur into it: "How 'bout you do my shoulders and back, and after I'll let you fuck me?"

Taking a sharp breath, reality slipped into Jesse's brain and he hesitated. A quick, mindless snog was one thing. Going further, however, would probably just add to the guilt that twisted in his stomach whenever he was in the same room as Ben and Claire. They'd never talked about what went and what didn't in their relationship, but he knew this would be crossing a line for both of them. No matter how anti-intuitive it was to deny a writhing, needy woman pressed against him.

"We shouldn't," he breathed. "Ben... It might make things weird."

She hadn't expect that answer, given how quick he'd been to kiss her back, but it was enough to quiet some of the fire racing through her veins. Not by much, though.

"Just the massage, then?" she asked, pulling back a bit so she could kiss him again, albeit briefly. "Much more innocent." One of her hands drifted down his front, settling on his groin. "If you're already taken, I get it. I won't make you do anything you'll regret."

Her touch sent a quiver through him and he swallowed. She was right, after all. It was much more innocent. Besides, the first time he and Ben had been together, it was with other people. This fell into that same moral gray area, right?

"Yeah. Alright," he said, his hands drifting to her shoulders.

Izzy kissed him again with the same crushing frenzy as before, thinking what was needed to do things right. All his earlier flirtiness seemed to have fizzled right out of him, and she had a pretty good idea why, but damned if she wasn't going to get that massage at the very least. Maybe some more of that excellent mouth of his too, if she pressed her luck.

"Go pull the main door on the garage down and lock it. I'll come 'round the side inna sec. Gotta get something real quick," she told him, her voice warm as she kissed him brief and chastely before slipping out from beneath his frame.

His body still humming, Jesse headed back towards the garage. It wasn't until he reached up to pull the door closed, his eyes falling on the house, that he stopped.

It wasn't innocent. You don't lock the doors on something innocent. And as for regret, hard fingers of guilt were already closing around his stomach. Yes, things had been hard lately. Yes, it would be nice to lose himself in someone, to forget these things were complicated. But that didn't change the fact, and he would have to face Ben and Claire eventually. How could he tell them he was theirs and then do something like this.

He lowered his hands. Of course now he had to tell Izzy no. He'd never been good at that.

"Shit." He slid behind the lip of the garage, as though hiding would make things easier. ...Which it would. Not being there when she got back would be a pretty clear No. His mind darted through options and he finally settled on the guest bathroom. That way he wouldn't risk running into Izzy.

Biting his lip, and feeling yet another twinge of guilt, he disappeared from the garage.

* * *

><p>It'd been at least a week since he'd cleaned the guns, and with Claire napping and Jesse off in the yard with Izzy, now seemed as good a time as any. Ben worked with a quiet efficiency, cleaning each individual piece with his hand tools before he oiled them up and reassembled them. With two sets of guns and a few extra pieces they'd picked up along the way for Jesse's use it was proving to be a much longer job than he anticipated though, but Ben didn't mind.<p>

His head rose when he heard the door open, watching Izzy as she moved with purpose toward her bedroom. Her face was a little flushed. He frowned some, tracking her with his eyes before she moved out of his field of vision, returning a moment later.

"Everything all right?" he asked when she came through the living room again. The dogs very nearly tripped over themselves trying to follow her, and Izzy nearly tripped over them when she came to a sudden stop to look at him, flashing him a quick smile.

"Yeah, just came to get my hand lotion. There isn't any in the garage," she said by way of clarification. His brows rose slightly but he didn't say anything, letting her run off again. He knew she liked to moisturize her hands after using the degreasing soap - a trick he picked up from her when he started to notice the positive difference - but with Jesse out there, Ben couldn't deny where his mind went. He frowned again, dropping his eyes back to the gun he had been partway through finishing.

It wasn't a minute before the bathroom door opened and Jesse peeped out. His face went instantly red when he saw Ben, but he stepped out. "You hungry?" he blurted. "I was going to go to the kitchen, fix something, and I figured, if you wanted something."

Ben blinked in surprise at Jesse's sudden appearance. "Weren't you just-" but then it hit him: He'd zapped in. Ben's brow pinched, both at the realization and Jesse's demeanor. "Nevermind. No, I'm kinda up to my elbows here."

Despite the open getaway, Jesse hesitated. He didn't like Ben's expression. "I had to take a piss real quick. Got caught up exploring the yard," he explained.

"You should be a bit more careful," Ben said without looking up. He aimed the gun off to the floor and squeezed the trigger, hearing a resounding click. It was just a shy too slow, though, and he started to tweak with it. "Izzy doesn't know."

Jesse tensed. "Doesn't know what?"

Ben lifted his eyes again and looked at him, confused at the question. "Any of it? But specifically what you can do. What'd you think I meant?"

The blush came back to Jesse's face. "Oh. I thought you meant us. The three- Never mind. Where's Claire?"

"Sleeping," Ben said slowly, his eyes drifting off to the front door before looking back at Jesse again. He had a feeling he was missing something, especially with Jesse's answer. It reminded him yet again how they'd never really talked about what they were seriously. _Really oughta do that..._ he mused.

Jesse didn't miss Ben's look, and it made his chest feel like stone. There was too much he was keeping to himself, too much guilt building inside him. It was going to burst if he didn't release something. "I kissed Izzy."

Ben blinked, feeling his stomach flip over. _Oh..._ A hundred different things came rushing through his head at once, the loudest being 'why,' but a small part of him wasn't sure he could handle the answer. More importantly, when he thought of Izzy's reply to his question in the living room only moments ago, he wondered why she'd lied to him. But then, why would she feel the need to tell him? She didn't know it was his business. It was a lot to process.

The silence was a slow knife in Jesse's stomach. "I'm..." But he couldn't say he was sorry. Not unless he knew Ben expected an apology. Back in Vegas Ben had said he thought Jesse had been out fucking. Not like it was something he wanted Jesse to do, but something expected. How could he apologize for something if it was what Ben thought he would do?

"Technically she kissed me," he put in, trying to fill the empty room. "We'd been flirting, and I guess it got carried away, and she wanted more, but I..." Jesse's eyes didn't leave Ben, a little wide and desperate. He just wanted to know it was the right choice.

"But you what?" Ben prompted, putting the gun down as he met Jesse's panicking gaze, still frowning.

Jesse swallowed. "I came back here."

Ben's jaw worked silently for a moment. The complicated things rolling around in his stomach and Jesse's obvious guilt spoke in volumes, but putting those things into actual words was clearly not going to be easy. _You can't be mad at him when you're not even sure what you are,_ he told himself, letting out a sigh and running a hand through his hair.

"C'mere. Sit down. Please," he said quietly.

Stomach twisting, Jesse obeyed, though he tensed on the edge of the sofa. He'd expected Ben to shrug it off, and hoped that he'd be mad. He wasn't quite sure what to make of this reaction.

"That was a real dick thing to do," Ben said flatly. His eyes lowered as he chewed on his lower lip. "But... you feel bad about it. And it's been done, so... let's just leave it, yeah?"

Jesse's eyes lowered to the floor between them. It was strange, feeling like he was floating off connected to nothing when he knew the sofa and floor were just under him. "Yeah. Alright." And, because at least he felt it might be justified now, he added, "I'm sorry."

Ben ran a hand through his hair again, the twist in his stomach coming back. "Good. Because I'm pretty sure if it'd been the reverse, you wouldda shouted at me. Keep that in mind." He brought his eyes up to look at Jesse, with his head slightly bowed and his eyes avoidant.

"I know defining what the three of us has is kinda hard, given everything sounds ridiculously hipster and nowhere near what it actually is, but just know that I don't wanna be with anyone else but you and Claire. And if you..." he swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. "If you wanna see other people too, I'm not okay with that."

It was odd, how hearing the constraint made the tension ease out of Jesse's shoulders. He finally looked up, nodding. "I don't want to see other people. Izzy... just sort of happened. But I'll be more aware next time."

"Okay." Ben leaned back against the chair, and for a moment silence stretched on between them, but then he snickered and shook his head. "God, that's not even fair. I spent weeks trying to get her to kiss me."

A smile quirked on Jesse's lips. "Yeah, she told me. But you were just some punk kid. Hard to compete with me."

"Thanks," Ben snorted, just a flicker of insecurity registering in his eyes.

Jesse caught it, though, reaching out to chuck Ben under the chin. "Now, though, the only thing keeping her from jumping your bones is Claire. She probably figured if she couldn't have you, she could at least have me."

That brought some color to his cheeks, but the tension just beneath his skin fizzled out. "She really kissed you first? And you weren't-" he made a vague gesture with his hand.

Jesse's smile evaporated. "I... I don't think so."

Ben caught the look, and quickly plucked the first thing he could out of his head to try and ease over the fumble: "Man, she must be desperate then."

Even though he gave a laugh, Jesse's expression was somewhat distant. He inwardly replayed the whole discourse with Izzy in his head, trying to find any moments he might have crossed that line. "She...she did say she was really missing her cowboy. And that I reminded her of him. So I guess she is."

Whatever good humor was left in Ben faded. Even the attempt at being funny had fallen short. _Man, I'm getting kinda crappy at this._

"Guess that thing about older chicks being up for anything isn't an urban legend after all," he said, cracking a half smile. "I'll have to remember that when you and Claire ditch me someday."

Jesse's eyes snapped into focus on him and he gave a smirk. "Shut up, we'd never do that," he said, ruffling his hair fondly. But he pulled his hand back with a slight frown, rubbing his fingers together. "Ugh. What've you got in your hair?"

Ben blinked, confused, then looked down at his hands. A flush of embarrassment streaked across his cheeks.

"Dammit, it's gun oil."

Giving a snort, Jesse ran his filmy finger down Ben's cheek. "You're always so fucking dirty."

That only made the flush burn hotter. "Shut up, it's a tick."

"Didn't say it was a bad thing," Jesse said with a grin. "I like dirty."

The words, coupled with the tone and Jesse's grin, was enough to take the fire out of his face and spread it through the rest of Ben's body. He ducked his head and reached for the last rag that was still clean and dry, wringing it with his hands to get the oil off.

"So I should go roll around in the yard a bit then?" Ben offered, snickering.

"Only if I'm there rolling with you. Which might be a bit awkward if Izzy or the dogs came along," Jesse added, giving him a wink.

"You keep talking like that, I'm gonna drag you into the laundry room," Ben warned, warmth in his words.

Jesse quirked his eyebrow. "If you're saying that as a threat, sorry to say, it's not much incentive for me to stop."

"Oh, not a threat," the younger man grinned, all sunny and dimpled. "It's a promise."

There was a lock on that door, he remembered. And if they turned the dryer on, even empty, it would be noisy enough to block out any sounds they made. The thoughts were already getting his blood pumping.

"Yeah?" Jesse said, briefly biting his bottom lip. "You and I going to get the laundry room all dirty?"

Ben stood, resisting the urge to wipe his hands on his jeans as he moved around the sofa and coffee table, already heading in that direction. He threw a grin over his shoulder at him. Jesse was instantly on his feet. Getting all hot and bothered with Izzy paled in comparison to the heat coursing through him now. The whole thing between him and Ben and Claire might be complicated, but it was worth it.

* * *

><p>Izzy couldn't go a minute without feeling a pleasant hit of deja vu. Although Ben was quite a bit healthier and his movements more assured, his quirks and voice and laugh were still that same mauled kid she'd met years ago. She couldn't help glancing at him every now and then as they worked on the GTO, which was looking more and more like a real car.<p>

"I never would have pegged you for partnering up," she said, wiping her hands on the rag at her waist. "You had such a damn independent streak when I met you."

Out of habit, Ben pulled the edge of his shirt up to his face and rubbed at the grime that had started collecting on his cheeks. He didn't have coveralls that fit anymore, not by a long shot, and had to settle instead on a raggedy pair of jeans and the shirt he wore when he'd run out of clean clothes. There were holes in at least five places, and the neck hem had been ripped clean off, but it did the job.

"Felt right," he said distractedly from beneath the car, his voice refracted back to him from the metal parts mere inches away from his face.

Izzy cocked her head to the side but didn't comment, working in silence for a bit. Then, "Claire must be something special, getting you to give up that car."

Ben chuckled, having expected the veiled question for a couple days now. Jesse had implied a few things when he'd told him what had gone down between them, and he'd caught a few meaningful looks from Izzy during meal clean-up or when Claire had occasionally stuck her head into the garage to check their progress. It wasn't like he hid his feelings; he hid everything from everybody nearly every day of his life, and he wasn't about to hide them in the company of trusted friends. Still, he found himself at a loss on how best to say what was inside his head and heart, especially after the talk he'd had with Jesse.

"They both are," he said after a long pause.

Looking down at him, there was a thoughtful pause before Izzy leaned back over the engine. "Well I'm glad you've found a situation that makes you happy, darlin'."

Ben blinked, then stuck his heel out beneath the roller and pushed himself out enough to be visible. He stared at her.

"That's it? Really?"

Izzy gave a laugh, re-placing the oil cap. "You expected a lecture? Or you just wanted to shock me? I'm not your mom. Besides, hunters never seem to go about things like regular people." Straightening, she leaned her hip on the car, smiling down at him. "I can't really define what I got; why should I expect different from you?"

Ben watched her for a moment with a wry sort of grin on his face, unable to stop the little double-beat in his chest, filled with fondness and affection for his friend. He pushed himself back beneath the car again, though several different statements struggled for dominance in his head.

"What'd I say about comparing yourself to my mom?" he settled on, allowing a fuller grin up at the underside of the GTO.

"You're getting plenty of tail as it is, darlin'. Far as you're concerned, mine's mom-tail," she teased. Ben made a disgusted noise, knocking his foot against her ankle.

"Could always invite you into our little club," he shot back. "Secret handshake and everything."

Biting back her first response, Izzy said, "Whatever you kids get up to is your business; I'll pass."

In spite of his own tease, Ben couldn't ignore the immediate rush of mixed feelings in his chest. He bit his lip, hands coming down from where they'd been reaching into the gears above him. He swallowed.

"Jesse told me what happened, you know." He was careful to keep the accusation out of his voice, as well as the hurt. "Why'd you lie to me?"

Though her smile faded, Izzy didn't seem too fazed by the question. "No offense, darlin', but if you want me to tell you each time I'm about to fool around with a hunter, things are going to get awkward quick."

Ben closed his eyes for a moment and took a steadying breath before rolling out again, though he didn't stand up. He just looked at her, frowning a little.

"He's my..." he started, then stalled as he tried to find a word for what Jesse was. Boyfriend just sounded wrong; while it held the exclusivity he wanted the title to have, it wasn't a purely exclusive situation with Claire involved. "We're partners. And you're my friend. I don't want to have you or him hating each other because of something and then I'm stuck having to pick between you, y'know? 'Least you couldda done is told me you were fixing to tap that." _So I could have freaked out properly,_ he added inside his head.

"You mean in the five seconds I saw you?" she said wryly, stepping back to look down at him. "I didn't know I was fixing to tap that until I kissed him, and since I didn't know he was anything more'n an extra body in the car to you, I didn't know it was your business. But Jesse was gone when I got back, so I got a pretty good hint he was stuck on you."

Ben felt a traitorous blush immediately break across his cheeks. He couldn't find it in him to argue her points, though he felt that hint of nagging worry about Jesse maybe shrouding the truth on who kissed who first immediately fade.

"Besides, I hear you have a boyfriend anyway," Ben pointed out, trying to get away from the awkwardness. "What's all that about?"

She gave a snort of a laugh. "I have a cowboy. Any other labels are up in the air."

Ben leered at her. "So I take it you go to the rodeo often, then?"

Smiling, she gave a loud sigh. "Not nearly enough."

It took everything in him not to laugh outright at her quip, and in spite of everything he still somehow managed to conjure up the mental image, complete with some stranger with a cowboy hat hiding his face. Ben pushed himself under the car again to keep her from seeing his expression.

"Tramp," he tossed back. "Hand me the number four socket, wouldja?"

"Pot kettle black, Mr. I'm-banging-two-people-at-the-same-time," she scoffed, even as she handed the wrench over.

"We have a profound bond," came the amused reply.

* * *

><p>Summer nights in Maryland weren't much different than the summer nights in Alabama, or any other southern state. Sure, the humidity was slightly less oppressive: little summer squalls didn't come and go every fifteen minutes here, and that was a plus-but the heat was the same. Claire could hear the crickets out in Izzy's junk yard singing away as the twilight melted into a rich, velvet navy blue. Lightning bugs blinked in the distance, disappearing in the slivers of light that came from the garage, where Ben and their host were working on making the GTO not look like it'd recently rolled off a cliff.<p>

The sound of water shutting off clued her in to the whereabouts of the only other occupant in the house. She and Jesse had always had a different dynamic than what she shared with Ben. Though her reasons for attachment to the cambion were stitched slightly different than with the other member of their hard-to-define relationship, that didn't mean she loved him any less. It did, however, make certain things a little more difficult for Claire to define or understand. Also, in light of the recent angel-induced vision of the future, there was some tension between them that Claire didn't know what to do with. She could sense it from him-a fear she understood, but couldn't soothe, and that in turn frightened her as well. It was hard to shake the vision; the look in the eyes of the older-version of him, and everything she knew he'd done.

Though as much as it frightened her, it also firmly resolved how in love she was with the Jesse she had here and now.

She found him with his back to her, sitting on the edge of the bed after an obvious shower. Without a word, her knee creased the bed spread as her weight settled behind him, a light brush of her fingers traced his neck to his shoulder and down his spine, making his back stiffen. She pressed her lips to the other shoulder, then rested her chin there, meeting his eyes with a gentle smile. He smiled back, but it was hesitant. It shouldn't be this way. He should melt easily into her touch, and automatically have something flip or flirtatious to say that would make her smile wider. Instead he kept remembering how scared and frantic she'd looked as she held his face in her hands, and the promise he made that he might have already broken.

"Hi," he said, quieter than he meant to be.

Though his expression was difficult to read in depth, that tension was still there. Claire's stomach tightened; her automatic reaction was to drape her arms around his chest and squeeze him in, her nose nuzzling in close to his jaw.

"Have I told you how proud I am of you?" she hushed against his neck, ignoring the tickle of her hair as it fell from her shoulder around to his.

Guilt settled like marbles in his stomach. He gave a shrug. "Any reason why? All I did was take a shower, and I've been doing that a while now." The comment pulled a genuine chuckle out of Claire, her nod and smile pressed into his still warm skin.

"No wonder you're so good at it," she teased a little, leaning back a bit so she wasn't pressing him off the bed, but her thin top still clung to the moisture on his back.

He let out a breath, his hand resting on her arm, and thought about what nightmares had been like for him. The one thing he'd wanted most was someone there, some sort of comfort to bring him back to reality. And Claire was looking for that from him. Turning his head, he nuzzled the side of her head before pressing a kiss to her temple. Claire's eyes closed with the warm gesture; she felt the knot in her stomach shift and loosen, but another tightened in her chest.

"I mean it, though," she continued on after a moment of quiet. She squeezed him once more, finding the desire to be closer unsatisfied until she was basically sharing the same space. She'd never been so clingy. Part of her was uncomfortable with it, but she didn't care; at the moment, his warmth and his realness was everything she needed. "You've come a long way, and it hasn't been easy. I'm proud to be next to you."

Jesse tried to swallow but couldn't. There was so much he wasn't telling her, that he was too afraid to tell her. He didn't know how to handle her words. Instead, he shifted away from them. "What did I do? In the dream," he asked quietly.

Claire tensed inside, but tried her best not to show the reaction outwardly. Her grip on him got a little tighter, and a sigh replaced words that she knew she didn't want to say. _He deserves to know_ came a voice in her head, but even that was uncertain.

She pressed her lips to his shoulder briefly, then breathed through her words. "Are you sure you want me to answer that?"

"No," he said honestly, his hand tightening on her arm. "But if I know, then maybe I'll know how to stop it from happening." _Or know if some of it already happened._

"There's a lot I don't know-" It was a while before Claire could say anything, and even as she started, she was still second guessing herself. "He dropped me more than a decade into the supposed 'future'..." her voice trailed off a bit after tightening, tensing with the memory of having to play _catch up_ with Amitiel's sick little 'life lesson'. Closing her eyes, she fought the sick feeling in her stomach. "By then, everything had already happened. At some point, you left us-I don't know why." Another sigh rolled from her lips. This one lightly quivered. "From there, everything went to Hell."

Jesse frowned, turning towards her as best he could in her tight embrace. "I would never leave you." His thoughts jumped to his bargain with the demon. "Not for real, and not forever."

Claire loosened her grip so he could twist around. The look on his face was the brick wall on which a lot of her thoughts crashed; it was sincere, but also contained a hint of desperation she couldn't really place. Her lips pressed together; her unwitting show of concern. She touched his face and traced his cheek with her thumb before leaning in for a gentle, but needed kiss, which he softly met. His arms slid around her as he pulled away from the kiss, settling for holding her close.

"I don't want to ever see you afraid of me again," he said.

Something about the underlying truth in those words sent a cold shock through her. She hadn't addressed her own feelings that directly, but there it was, all laid out. She'd been scared when she came out of that dream-and Jesse had seen right into it. Swallowing lightly, she rested her cheek on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Her hands idly roamed his back; Claire was focusing on everything that he was, here and now, forcing the image of the older him as far out of her head as possible.

"S'just a dream," she murmured finally, squeezing him close and breathing him in.

"It is. Doesn't keep them from sucking, though," he added, closing his eyes to better take in the feel of her. After a moment, he added, "You scared me, too. In one of my dreams. But I know I'm safe with you."

She pulled back just enough to focus on Jesse's face, a gentle but genuine smile on hers. Rather than cheapen the instant comfort that confession gave her with more words that were already conveyed on her expression, Claire quirked teasing brow, resting her forehead on his. "Among other things," she promised, a little extra warmth in her voice.

He smiled, biting his bottom lip, though nothing could quite convey the sheer surge of adoration he felt for her. "Yeah? What things?"

"Oh, let's see," she grinned, so close that she brushed his lips in the process. "Constantly scrutinized? I haven't worn out the bad-ass-teacher thing yet, have I?"

"No," he said, his hand slipping down her back. "Still love your bad ass." She snickered low and warm under her breath, her shoulders pulled back as a smooth reflex to the graze of his hand.

"S'good to know," she said, sitting back a bit so she could trace his bare chest with her fingertips, though her eyes stayed hotly trained on his. "Wouldn't want you to get bored."

He chuckled even as he quivered under her touch. "Being bored is the last thing I have to worry about with you." Pause. "Unless you're making me do research."

"Oh, you'll just have to suck that part up," she purred, her grin tilting as she teased his skin with a little more of her nails. "But I'll make up for it."

Hissing in an appreciative breath, Jesse dipped his head, kissing along her neck. "Guess I can live with that," he said, sliding a thumb up under the hem of her shirt. Claire lifted her chin, her belly pulled in with a slow inhale that put heat in her voice.

"You _guess_?" she teased, punctuating the cottony words with a playful nipple-pinch.

He came just short of squealing. "Alright, alright, I can live with it. Taskmaster."

Claire's giggle was warm as his hands, still fresh from the shower. Her own slid around his muscled torso around to the back, bringing her lips close to his chin. "Taskmaster?" She couldn't help it. "S'that a kinky nickname or a computer program?"

A blush rose to Jesse's cheeks and he leaned down to give her bottom lip a nip. "You prefer something like bossypants?" Claire snerked, her grin lengthening.

"Maybe," she said, smoothly gliding the rest of the way across his lap. "But guess who's not wearing bossy_panties_." It was late, and sleeping-shorts were comfortable in this heat. Laundry day also had impeccable timing.

Giving a happy and needy little growl, he grabbed her thighs and rolled her, pinning her to the bed. "Have I told you I love you, my dirty girl?" Claire puffed the pale hair away after it sprawled across her eyes, but her crooked grin couldn't be contained for long. She gave his hips a good, solid squeeze with her thighs, dragging her legs on the inside of his, mussing the towel draped around them.

"I think so, but you can remind me."

"Mm, I love you," he said, taking her mouth in a kiss. His hand tugged at her shirt, baring her stomach. "I love how you always surprise me..." He cupped her breast. "I love how you fit to me..." Claire purred out a breath and bent to the touch. Her eyes were already a bit hooded, but locked on Jesse's face. The gravel quality in his voice shaped into those words stirred inside her. Familiar and craved, innocent in their own way; she didn't want it to stop.

"Keep going," she encouraged, lifting her head off the covers to kiss slowly along his neck.

* * *

><p>The doorknob suddenly twisted, but the figure sliding in was a lot more subtle Ben had heard the murmuring noises at the door as he'd approached, having seen neither Claire nor Jesse lingering anywhere in the house and knowing that usually only meant one thing. He'd thought briefly of letting them alone to have some time together - it was only fair, after all - but then found himself wondering why he had to be absent for that to take place. They could be together without him participating.<p>

Plus, it was hot. He knew for a fact that Jesse had a kink about being watched, and it wasn't often that he got to really take pleasure in looking at either of them; usually, his body was too actively involved in whatever it was they were all doing. Making sure to lock the door behind him, he leaned back against it and turned his eyes to them, a slow but silent smile on his face.

His hand riding Claire through the orgasm, and his eyes on every inch of her gorgeous body as he made it writhe, it was a moment before Jesse noticed the shadow in the corner of his eye that hadn't been there before. When he looked up and met Ben's gaze, he felt his whole body flush warm with pleasure, need, and a smidgen of embarrassment.

"Looks like we have a viewer, Claire," he said, his hand slowing but not withdrawing from her. The apples of her cheeks flushed and tingling, Claire's breaths were still hard and ridden by her voice, even on her way down. Jesse's voice cut through the haze, though, and she opened her eyes, following his gaze to a point behind her. In her lingering fog, she smiled at Ben, feeling a fever suddenly spread through her face. Her chuckle was hot and breathless, and melted into another moan.

"Looks like I missed the previews," Ben murmured, his hand coming down to press against his groin. "Damn. Any chance for a rewind, or is this a one-time playthrough?"

His gaze lingering a moment on Ben's hand, Jesse said, "I told Claire she got to take charge after that one, so what happens is up to her."

Ben nodded, moving over to the nearby chair by the desk and turning it so he could watch better, his legs settling wide apart on the wood floor.

"Right then. Don't mind me..."

* * *

><p>The service had been excellent, as was to be expected. Izzy loved her church, from Bible study to meet and greet and all the parts between. The fellowship kept her grounded and sane during the long bouts of no-contact with the world. Junkyard work was a lot less frequented those days as traditional cars started fizzling off the market to be replaced by streamlined electric and fuel cell cars. Diesel and gasoline was still the norm, but filling stations typically only kept one or two designated pumps anymore, and she still hadn't gotten retrained to work on the higher-end cars yet. They were a lot less likely to fall apart, what with the Locust-systems most were equipped with. Cars damn near drove themselves.<p>

That was okay, though. Izzy liked her client base, and the metal could still be melted down and sold. There was still work to be done and money to be made. And at the very least, there were still hunters who needed her help, like the blond sitting in the chair beside her, looking pensive as her thumbs traced back-and-forth paths over the ceramic coffee cup in her hands.

"Did you want me to getcha another cruller, darlin'?" Izzy asked, brushing a flyaway strand of dark brown hair back behind her ear. Like always, her hair had started to rebel against the product and bobby-pins she'd fixed it into, the braided bun slowly starting to come undone.

Claire was staring at something in her coffee, whether it was a reflection, a shadow, or a piece of something that'd floated into her cup, she didn't care. For whatever the reason, her eyes had anchored onto it, letting her thoughts wonder to darker places spurred by the smell and sounds of church. She barely heard Izzy, only catching the term of endearment at the end. She broke contact with the thing in her brew, and offered her a distracted smile. "No, I'm good, thanks."

Izzy hummed in thought, taking a sip from her own cup and letting the silence stretch a few beats between them. A few of her church acquaintances had came by at the beginning of meet and greet, but by now people had started to settle down at tables for longer chats. She usually was the one drifting around, but this time she had a duckling to watch over. The other churchgoers had sensed that and given her room.

"I know you don't know me much," Izzy said slowly, keeping her voice a little softer so as not to carry to the nearby ears all around them. "But I can't help noticing that you're travelin' with two men, and that can't be sittin' well with your head _all_ the time, darlin'. You're more'n welcome to talk to me, even if I don't know what it is that's got you all wrapped up inside your headspace."

Claire couldn't help the tiny chuckle that bubbled up from her lungs. She shook her head lightly, bits of her pale hair coiling in the New England summer humidity. The thing was gone from her coffee. "Amen to that," she commented passively, and took a drink. Izzy definitely nailed a few things on the head. Other things, though, were a lot more complicated.

"I appreciate it, really. I'm just not-" Claire sighed a little, letting her eyes roam around the parish members. She folded her lips between her teeth and sighed. "It's been a while since I've been to an actual service. Even longer that I actually went with someone."

Izzy's thin brows knitted slightly as she looked at the younger woman. Claire hadn't dismissed her when she'd offered for her to come along that morning - she'd asked if there was a Catholic service close by, and conveniently Izzy herself was Catholic - so Claire's words left her feeling a little uncertain. Was it a good thing or a bad thing, and did she press to learn the answer? It was obvious that the blonde was not a talker, but in Izzy's opinion that didn't necessarily mean she didn't _want_ to talk; it just meant she needed to be asked to.

"Did you enjoy yourself at least?" Izzy asked carefully. Claire pressed her lips together, but her expression was just as muddled as Izzy's.

When she spoke, her voice fell considerably. "I wish I could say yes." And she wished she could give the kind woman a better explanation than that, too, but Claire wasn't keen on crossing that line. Even if Izzy was in their sort of circle, there was _a lot_ behind the haunted look in Claire's eyes. Izzy frowned a little, feeling something in her gut twist up. She put down the unfinished mug and stood, a hand resting on Claire's shoulder.

"C'mon, let's get outta here."

The Sunday afternoon bar scene was, sadly, something Claire knew all about-and it didn't seem to change from city to city. Some people went to diners, restaurants, or pancake houses for a good family brunch. Her family had been like that. Afterward, she got to know the other side of the crowd.

Still in the soft lilac sundress she'd worn to Izzy's parish, Claire eased onto the counter stool after smoothing the skirt, and noted how familiar the scene was, regardless of never having set foot in this place before. Izzy smiled at the bartender and gave a little wave, and once she was finished mixing an order the inked-up pixie-woman sidled up in front of them.

"Hiya, Izzles. Howya been?"

"Same as always, Trish. Can we get two Hail Marys and two Devil's Advocates?" Claire looked over at the other woman, suddenly grinning, however faintly.

Trish laughed, checking her wrist watch and saying, "Izzit Sunday already?" before she headed to the opposite end of the bar for clean glasses. Claire wrangled the chuckle in her throat and sat back a little straighter, facing Izzy as 'Trish' went to get their drinks.

"I'm sensing a good routine, here."

"I'm set in my ways," Izzy intoned with mock solemness, her eyes twinkling. Claire's smile warmed a bit. She leaned her elbows on the edge of the bar and sighed, making the effort to release the tension in her shoulders caused by the hour and a half at Izzy's church.

"One cannot live by food alone," she commented, pleasantly referencing the alcohol they were about to be served. She swiveled her eyes back up to Izzy. "Thanks for the invite, but also sorry for not being the most lively company. Mass is a complicated thing, for me."

"It's a complicated thing for everyone, darlin'," Izzy returned, one slender eyebrow arched as she side-eyed her. Trish returned with the drinks in record time, and Izzy immediately lifted the shooter in her hand.

"Bless us, Father, for we will sin."

Claire couldn't help the crack of a genuine grin across her face. She plucked the shot glass up from the bar and held it up beside the older woman's. "It's been way too long since my last 'Confession'." The glasses clinked, and she tossed hers back with a scant wince. The pepper vodka paired up with the Tabasco left a lingering fire in the back of her throat, but the first sip from the ruby-red cocktail cooled it immediately.

"So I take it from what you said that you haven't managed to wrangle either of your boys into church with you yet." Claire tried to stop herself from letting a somewhat cynical laugh out. It came out as an aborted snort, which burned thanks to the Tabasco.

"You know how Ben does mornings, and you'd have a better chance of getting Jesse to wear a dress." Which, somehow, seemed vaguely true. Claire glanced across the bar, taking a sip from the chaser Izzy ordered. Izzy smirked a little at the mental image.

"He's got the hips for it," she mused. Claire nodded, suppressing a snicker. Izzy continued to sip from her drink a bit thoughtfully.

"And Ben still hasn't found Dean."

Claire was distracted away from her drink when Izzy spoke again. The shift in conversation wasn't expected, but it wasn't unwanted. She shook her head lightly, setting the Devil's Advocate on the bar and twisting it in her fingers. "No ma'am." Claire glanced up from the ice swirling in her glass, catching the bar lights first, then Izzy's dark gaze. "Seems to be a common link in all of us, huh." Up came her drink for a good long sip, after which, she rolled her lips and sympathetically winced to go along with a slightly contemptuous tone. "_Daddy issues._."

Izzy gave a muted laugh in response, her brows knitting just a little at Claire's words though she didn't press for details. She certainly knew Ben's history, but Jesse and Claire were still mostly strangers. Claire just finished the rest of her drink, washing down memories with the cold burn.

"So what's your story, then?" she asked gently, nudging the glass away and offering Izzy a half smile. "You seem fairly well-adjusted."

Izzy gave a little shrug, casting her gaze into the depths of her glass.

"My parents were killed by a shapeshifter when I was eight," she said, keeping her voice pitched low. "I spent seven years in foster until I ran away, making it up here. Jim took me in." That was the name of the salvage yard: James' Salvage. "Fast forward to four months after he died, I was possessed." She took a swig from her drink. "Then Sam found me."

"Sam?" Claire inquired in earnest. Her expression had softened a bit at the start of the other woman's story, but especially on mention of the possession. Izzy nodded.

"I only met him the once, back in 2008. He was hunting with a girl 'round then, though she and I didn't really talk." Claire watched her for a few moments of contemplative silence, then signalled the bartender for another round, this one on her. Seems there were more connections with them all than missing fathers.

"Been here ever since?"

Izzy took a sip from her glass, shrugging again. "No real point to leavin'. I like it here."

"Good enough reason, I guess," Claire nodded, a faint smile on her face that didn't really reach her eyes. "I don't think I've liked any place good enough to stay longer than a month. Not since I was seventeen."

"Gotta wanna stay in order to start likin' a place," Izzy pointed out gently. Claire snickered genuinely, nodding. Her voice, though; not that cheery.

"Touche. I'm not sure I even know how, anymore."

"You do," Izzy said, reaching over to put her hand lightly over Claire's. "You just do it in a different way." Claire looked at her quizzically, but didn't pull away. She had a relatively good understanding of what she meant, but she had no idea if the subject had been breached with her. Izzy withdrew her hand after a moment, picking up the glass again and taking the appropriate amount of time needed to down it.

"You did a switcheroo on me. We're s'posedta be talkin' about you."

"I thought we were," she responded with a brow arch, a light chuckle in her voice.

"I need another drink."

Claire's eyes lit up a little more, though her laugh was delayed. She glanced up to Trish as she set the second round of drinks in front of them, handing over payment and a good sized tip. "Looks like I'm not the only one who doesn't get enough girl time."

"Oh honey," Izzy said with a slow smile. "I've had _too_ much girl time lately. I need a little more man in my life."

Claire picked up the shooter, a chuckle in her eyes but not exactly on her lips. "Shouldn't be too hard for you," she said, clinking shots again before tossing it down. Claire was going to be tasting Tabasco for three days. Izzy waited until she'd swallowed down the shot before replying.

"That sounds like a line, darlin'," she teased, grinning wide. "Sadly, I do not have the chutzpah to handle more than one. I'm an old lady."

Once what Izzy said sank in properly, Claire understood - and appreciated - why she'd waited until there was no booze or hot sauce in her throat. There was some very specific knowledge in her wording that Claire couldn't ignore. The only question now was its full extent. Also, if she really wanted to go there.

"You're not old." Claire decided to open with something safe, and chased it down with a drink of Devil's Advocate. Her silence followed, mostly because she didn't know what to say beyond that. Not immediately. "But it does take a lot of energy."

Izzy blinked in confusion for a moment before a deep blush colored her cheeks. "Oh, I didn't mean- sorry. That was... I'm sorry." She laughed nervously. "I'm getting a buzz, I think. I just meant I couldn't handle more than one in _general,_ not-" She was cut off by Claire's insistent laughing, a similar bridge of red across her cheeks and nose.

"Not _what_?" Claire goaded in good humor. As complicated the subject could be, at least the conversation wasn't heavy as the deep psychological scars of those who hunted.

"At the same time," Izzy finished, scrubbing a hand over her face. "Lord, give me strength, do you realize that I am a midget?" Claire's amusement beamed through her quieted laughter, leaning on one elbow facing the blushing mechanic.

"Don't sell yourself _short_." She couldn't help the pun, preparing to take another sip from her drink. "Besides, you're not much smaller than me."

"In comparison to the beasts?" Izzy paused to take a swig from her drink. "Yes I am."

"Still," Claire went on, her giggles finally melting off a little. "Doesn't mean anything."

Izzy laughed again. "Fucking a giant is difficult, darlin'. You've got exactly three positions that are functional without straining yourself. I can't even imagine what two would be like." Claire just chuckled into her drink.

"Good Sunday conversation," she mused, taking a sip.

"I've said my two Hail Marys," the older woman retorted. "I've made my peace with the Lord."

* * *

><p>"I hate you."<p>

Ben couldn't help but pout. It had taken him two years of regular paint ball with his friend Ricky, and another year with an actual gun to get to be a good shot. Sure, he could shoot something, but there was no real aim to it. Video games taught him nothing, not even the PS5 ones that were super-realistic; the weight and kickback just didn't exist in a controller.

Jesse shot every single bulls-eye he'd set up for him. Even the swinging ones, and the ones he'd thrown. It wasn't fair.

To his credit, Jesse did try to hold back his smirk. Not really successfully, but he did try. "I don't see what the big deal is, mate. You just point it where you want it to go," he said, flipping the safety on before he checked the chamber. Guns were such a foreign thing to Jesse; he couldn't help but be fascinated about how the parts all came together.

"Because it's hard and it took me forever and I hate you," Ben retorted, hands in his pockets and shoulders slumping.

Biting his lip, Jesse holstered the gun before sliding a hand on Ben's hip and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Which makes you more impressive and accomplished and shit, so be proud."

Ben's shoulders slumped just a little less, but he still felt a little annoyed. Shooting was just another thing to add to the long list of things Jesse did better than him. Giving his elbow a squeeze, Jesse looked out over the junkyard before back at the targets.

"So what else do you have to teach me?"

"With hunting?" Ben pulled one hand free and rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean, I've already run through all the basic knowledge. Everything else is moreorless stuff you gotta learn through doin' it."

"That mean I'm an expert now?" Jesse said with a grin. "Alright."

Ben gave him a little shove, cracking a half smile. "I wouldn't say expert. I could show you how to _clean_ the guns."

"Naw," Jesse laughed, cocking his head to the side. "I don't want to take that pleasure from you."

His answer made Ben's brows arch, which was followed by an eyeroll and a smirk. "So basically I should just have you on research and gun-cleaning duty until you learn to love 'em. I gotcha."

Jesse shook his head with a grin. "Yeah, just try and make me." He grabbed Ben's wrist, twisting it up behind his back and then wrapping him up in a hold around the chest. Ben thought for a moment to fight back, but the embrace was enough to take the window out of his and instead he just hanged there, breathing in deep.

Leaning up a little to rest his chin on Ben's shoulder, Jesse's smile turned quizzical. "Giving up so easy? Not that I mind you doing all the research and cleaning but..."

"Oh no, you're definitely doing it," Ben tossed back, turning his head some to grin at him. "I just like giving you the implication that you won. It's all I have left, after all."

"The only way you can beat me is by giving in?" Letting go of Ben's wrist, Jesse grabbed his crotch. Ben immediately yelped and shoved his hand away. "Hm. Your manhood _seems_ to be intact..."

"It's called being passive-aggressive, ass," Ben said with a laugh, his hands immediately grabbing at his shoulder and moving to flip him. Jesse dug his heels in, arms wrapping tight around Ben to break the move. The younger man put all his strength into his shoulders and arms, pushing back hard and pulling down, rolling his shoulders out from beneath Jesse's arms. Jesse stumbled forward but twisted, hunching and driving forward against Ben's stomach, wrapping him up again. Ben let out a breathless laugh.

"So y'wanna play rough, eh? I'll show you rough," he huffed, hooking his leg behind Jesse's knee and dropping off to the side, throwing them both to the ground.

Jesse grunted as he hit the ground, but instinctively rolled, trying to pin Ben down, but Ben used the momentum to roll them a second time and planted a stabilizing knee in the space between Jesse's knees, tucking Jesse into his chest as he tugged his arms behind his back. With a yelp, Jesse thrashed, kicking at Ben's legs, but Ben had thoroughly pinned him.

"Not so smug now, are ya?" Ben said into his ear, lifting his knee just enough to apply pressure to Jesse's groin as he rutted into his left hip and grinned.

Biting down on his yelp this time, Jesse strained to look back at him. "You're such a horny little bossypants."

"You love my bossypants," Ben tossed back, letting Jesse's arms go. "So much you wanna wear 'em yourself."

"Sometimes," Jesse said, shrugging his arm to his side and propping up on his elbow. He grinned up at Ben. "Most of the time I just want you to take them off."

"Now who's horny?" came Ben's amused reply.

Jesse leaned in, giving him a quick kiss. "I said most of the time. Didn't say now." Ben just chuckled again, planting his hands above Jesse's head as he leaned in and pressed his mouth firmly against his. Humming, Jesse slid his arms over Ben's neck, warmth blossoming from his center and spreading.

Except it was spreading too fast. And too hot. From one instant to the next it was like his insides had caught fire. Yanking back with a cry, he instinctively curled on himself, trying to escape the searing pain inside him. He could barely hear Ben's voice through the agony.

"Jess, what's wrong?" Cool hands pressed to his forehead, then gripped his shoulders. "Jesus, talk to me, what the-"

Jesse knew exactly what. He'd felt this before once, and even if he hadn't, he would know. Something inside was pulling him to one point, as instinctively as turning his head when he heard his name or pulling his hand away when he burnt it. The only thing stopping him was the man on top of him.

Trying to crawl out, he spoke through gritted teeth. "Tell you, but I gotta go. Be right back, promise, just gotta go."

Alarm flashed bright and prominent in Ben's eyes. "What? No, wait a sec-"

Guilt flared in Jesse, but he hardly had a choice. With a pained look at Ben, he vanished.

* * *

><p>Jesse gasped hard, the relieved breath of a man no longer in pain. He was still sprawled, but the world around him was very different, even with his eyes closed. Instead of dirt beneath him, it was smooth wooden planks. The breeze tasted of salt and he could hear the gentle roll of waves, cut with the sharp scream of a gull.<p>

Not what he'd been expecting.

Opening his eyes, he saw the demon standing over him. Dressed in a white linen shirt and tailored tan pants, he looked like a celebrity on vacation rather than a demon from hell. He arched one dark brow at him, offering a hand.

"Looks like you need to work on your landings."

Shoving himself back and to his feet, Jesse snatched his gun out of the holster, flipping off the safety as he aimed it at the demon's head. "You ever heard of texting, you fuckhead?" Jesse snarled. The demon barely flinched, his smile pleasant.

"I was unaware that you had a phone," he replied smoothly. "And further, I was under the impression that we had a deal: You came when I called. A phone can be ignored."

"Yeah, well now my friend is probably shitting himself wondering what the fuck happened to me, so thanks for that!" Jesse snapped, shaking the gun for emphasis. "That's going to be a whole heap of fun trying to explain."

The demon's shoulders lifted and dropped, his eyes narrowing at Jesse slightly.

"You might as well be shaking a stick at me, son. Guns don't work. Haven't your friends told you that much?"

"Shaking a stick makes sense when you're dealing with a fucking animal," Jesse said. He wanted so badly to pull the trigger, but shooting without knowing what would happen was what got him in this mess in the first place.

Before he had a chance to even pull it back however, the gun suddenly flew out of his hand and into the demon's. He paused long enough to check the chamber and empty the bullets out of it before crushing it as though it were an empty soda can. Jesse could have sworn his heart stopped, if only for a moment.

"Now what did I do to deserve that kind of attitude?"

Steeling his expression, Jesse spat, "Everything! But how about we start with the fucking dreams. _That_ wasn't part of the deal."

The demon's brows rose as he casually tossed the gun to the sand beside them. "Who's to say your mind isn't behind those dreams?" he asked. "Not that I know what you're speaking of. I've been working. I haven't got time to invest in mortal subconscious manipulation."

Jesse blanched, then took a step forward, pointing a slightly shaky finger at the demon. "Bullshit! I never had a dream before you came along!"

The demon didn't even flinch. "You also didn't use any of your powers outside of the lower base ones until recently. Maybe your mind is finally opening up."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jesse tried to make his voice hard, but most of the anger had drained out of him. The demon smiled, his teeth flashing almost overly white in their bright surroundings.

"We haven't got time for idle banter," he deflected. "The longer you're gone, the more upset your friends will be, am I right? I've got a job for you."

Gritting his teeth, Jesse said, "Go ahead and tell me, but I already know I'm not going to do it."

If anything, Jesse's answer only made the demon's smile widen. "I'm looking for a relic. It's outside of my range, but not yours. I've been told it's near Rockville, Maryland, in one of the pawn shops."

Hearing him say the name of the town they were staying in sent a chill down Jesse's spine, though he tried not to react outwardly. "Right, a relic, whatever."

The smile didn't dim on the demon's face, but something dangerous flashed in his eyes, akin to malice.

"This relic burns hot when God is near."

Jesse snorted. "Well I haven't seen God around either, so it won't be really useful to me."

"Good thing it isn't for you, then," the demon replied, hands sliding into his pockets. "I need it. And if you get it for me, I won't spend the rest of this week paging you regularly."

The bored look on Jesse's face sharpened at that, his eyes narrowing. "Fucking bastard. Alright, I get it for you. But have some fucking patience, especially if you can't tell me what it looks like."

"Oh, I can tell you what it looks like," the demon replied, smiling again. "I did manage to get that much out of the girl; I just didn't get an exact location before her heart stopped beating. Such a shame, too. She was very young, and very pretty."

Jesse had to look away, his stomach roiling. The beach spread out before them was empty; quiet and peaceful. It only made the nausea worse. "Tell me then, so I can get the fuck back."

The demon pulled out a thin card from the depths of his pocket. On it was a well-etched and shaded drawing. It was clear from its size that it wasn't drawn to scale, but was highly detailed. It appeared to have a face, with narrowed eyes and a long nose; on its forehead was a raised spiral, and just above either of its protruding ears were two upward-curving horns.

"It'll be made of brass. You can test it with fire. It shouldn't melt due to the enchantments."

Jesse shoved the card in his pocket. "Right, got it, that it?"

"Yes." The demon paused in front of him, his face all business now. "Do not let your friends have it. Do not even let them know it is in your possession. We can't have this back in the hands of angels or worse, do you understand?"

"Understood," Jesse practically growled, glaring. "Can I go?"

"Report back in 36 hours, or I'll page you again," the demon answered, then made a dismissive gesture with his hands. "And keep your toys at home next time."

* * *

><p>Claire listened to the kitchen screen door slam with its own weight after Izzy slipped out to fetch the dogs for their dinner. She peered out through the window over the sink, where she'd been repaying the older woman's hospitality by doing some dishes, ignoring the thought that the last time she'd performed the menial task she was probably sixteen years old.<p>

A storm was rolling in from the east, pulling a dark front of clouds in steadily from the shore. By the iron smell in the atmosphere that drifted in from the open door, Claire suspected it'd be pouring in a matter of minutes.

"Where's Izzy?"

Ben appeared in the small kitchen, his expression straining and his face pale. There was an intense fear in his eyes. Claire shook her hands off over the sink, the initial confusion of his tone melted away the moment she saw his face. Alarm bells went off.

"Out back getting the dogs... what happened?"

"Jesse's gone." Ben pushed both hands through his hair, several strands breaking away and twisting in his fingers as he did so. "He just... something happened, and he was gone. He said he'd be back, but I-"

Claire felt the blood drain away from her face, a sharp twist of panic spiking her blood pressure, but she kept it together. Ben's frantic flailing had been contagious; that was the first thing that needed her attention. So she cut him off. "_Slow down_," she urged, crossing the kitchen toward him. "What _exactly_ happened..."

"We were in the yard," he said, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides so as not to reach out and grab her, but he could only do it for so long before his hands naturally twisted up in his shirt. "Just goofing off since there wasn't anything worth watchin' on TV and we'd already messed around a bit, so I was running him through some target practice, and then he just- he _freaked out_ like something invisible was attacking him, and then he- he just left. Vanished right out from under me. He wouldn't even tell me what was wrong, and I- how are we even gonna find him, Claire? What if something happens-"

"Baby, calm _down_," she gently grabbed the hands that were threatening to stretch the hell out of his shirt, squeezing to keep his attention grounded. Her heart was racing too, but one phrase bounced around in her head over and over, keeping her relatively still: _he said he'd be back_. "'Member when you headed out on your own? You were coming back, right? He said he'd be back-we need to trust him-" _Because I don't know what else to do._

"But something was wrong," Ben pressed, his eyes a little wild. "Something was _really wrong_ with him. Claire, what if- what if it's that demon from Maine?"

Claire pulled in a breath and held it, her lips pressed tightly together. The thought sent ice water through her veins, and even worse was how likely it was.

"What do you want to do?" she finally asked after a moment, her eyes wavering. "Izzy's gonna be back any second. You wanna explain this to _her_?"

Ben shook his head, swallowing hard and pulling his hands free to shove through his hand again. "I don't know. I don't know what to do. I've been here trying not to have a panic attack for twenty minutes. I tried his phone but-"

The back door slammed on the sentence as Jesse walked in, his eyes instantly going towards them. His expression was hard and not a bit angry, but he let out a breath at the sight of them. Ben wasted almost no time, turning sharply on his heels and rushing him, hugging him fiercely.

Claire felt like her legs had turned to cooked pasta, the wash of relief a little too much to really express. She stood where she was but leaned heavily against the stove, pushing a slow breath through her lips.

Hugging him just as fiercely back, Jesse's eyes glanced over Ben's shoulder at Claire, quiet. He'd been so focused on getting away from the demon as quickly as he could, he hadn't really given much thought to what he'd say to them. He wished he wouldn't need to say anything.

"You scared the shit out of me," Ben said into his shoulder, not pulling back.

"Where did you go?" Claire said on the heels of Ben's statement, lingering worry in her voice and her stare.

Jesse's eyes darted away from hers. "Just had to take care of something. Doesn't matter."

Ben pulled away, looking down into Jesse's face and bringing one hand up to it, lifting him at the chin. "Don't do that," he pleaded quietly. "Please. Whatever it is that made you just up and leave without saying why, it matters."

Clenching his jaw, Jesse shook his head. "It's personal. And it's got nothing to do with you."

Had the circumstances surrounding them been a little less _abnormal_, Jesse's answer would've been met with little else than a subtle annoyance followed by forgiveness, however uncertain. Unfortunately, there were factors in their relationship-whatever it was-and _more_ than that, that kept Claire's eyes firmly planted on his face. What he was, what they'd been through, and her recent subconscious scuffle with an angel all contributed to the sharp uncertainty in her eyes. But she said nothing. Not yet.

She didn't have to; it was clear by the expression on Ben's face that he had every intention of going where she was hesitant to tread. "It's _personal?_" Heat and agitation filled his words. "Jesus Christ, Jess, we're together. All of us. There's no such thing as personal anymore, and you _know_ that." He gestured between the three of them. "You matter to us, and that means that it's our business now."

Jesse stepped back, just reining in the urge to shove Ben away. "You're not the one who gets to decide if my business is your business, _I am_. And I'm saying that you need to back off. There are things you wouldn't understand."

"_Knock it off_," Claire injected firmly, her eyes on both of them, centering on Jesse first. "You disappear after freaking out with no explanation, how do you _think_ we're gonna react?" And then to Ben. "Snapping isn't going to help _anyone_." She sighed hard, looking out the window over the sink as the rain started to hit it. "Izzy's coming back soon-so kiss and make up and we'll talk about this later."

Ben's jaw tightened and he pulled away, still silently fuming. Claire's comment stung, and he was nowhere near the mood to pretend nothing had happened.

"I'm going for a run," he said angrily.

Lips pursed tight, Jesse didn't say anything, just turning and heading for the bathroom. He was furious at them asking, but moreso with himself for not being able to tell them. Claire tracked him with her gaze until he rounded the corner out of sight, then snapped her eyes to Ben. The look was softer, almost apologetic-but also carried an unmistakable twinge of fear.

At her look Ben exhaled, fists once again clenching and unclenching again at his sides. What he really wanted to do more than anything was punch something, but it was looking like that was an unacceptable response to being told off by someone he loved.

"I'll be back before dinner. I just... need to do something before I lose my shit." His shoulders slumped a little. "Please don't hate me."

Claire felt a sharp sting behind her eyes and tried to blink it away. It only helped so much. Without saying anything, she pushed off her lean on the stove and gently touched the side of his face, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Never will," she promised quietly, meeting his eyes. "We'll get it worked out."

Ben nodded, turning her face enough to kiss her fully, albeit briefly. Giving her a smile he didn't quite feel, he headed out the door and closed it behind him.

* * *

><p>It was a challenge, trying to find a way to make a meal all of them would like. When Izzy had came in and found Ben gone, and gotten very little from Claire about what had happened, she figured that was the best way to bring them all together.<p>

She knew for a fact that Ben's favorite was inside-out burgers and home fries. He was an easy one to please. After a gentle nudge from Claire, Izzy discovered she had soft spot for a Thanksgiving-esque meal, but there was no way in hell she was gonna roast a bird for three hours without proper planning; a breast would do though. Jesse, could barely meet her eyes when she'd caught him for a moment, but he'd finally answered after she'd promised they were square. Surf and turf. Izzy couldn't help but reflect on how much the meals said something about each of them.

It had taken about three hours to get dinner finished, complete with her meal of choice, but she felt pretty damn pleased of herself. Something was clearly up, but the home cooked meal seemed to ease the tension and loosen their tongues.

"Gotta say I agree," Izzy said around a mouthful of Moqueca stew. "Huntin' south in _this_ weather? Y'all are gluttons for punishment."

"Not my choice," Jesse said, maybe a shade closer to defensive than joking. "I just go wherever these two drive."

Ben frowned a little as he popped another fry in his mouth. "You know we go where the jobs go, Iz."

Izzy half smiled. "Yeah, I know, but still. Y'know you ain't the only hunters in the whole country." Claire couldn't hold back the slight, humorless twitch of her lips. She didn't look up, though.

"Been running into a lot more than usual, that's for sure." Not meaning Izzy, of course.

Jesse's eyes flitted to her, his stomach going hard. More hunters, more angels, more demons. All the things he should be running from but that he kept finding himself in the middle of, with these two. He pushed the bite of steak on the end of his fork through the potatoes, streaking designs across the plate.

Izzy looked between the three of them, then stood and moved toward the kitchen. She was back a moment later, four shot glasses tucked between the fingers of one hand and a bottle held by the neck in the other.

"Tequila?"

Claire offered their too-gracious hostess a genuine, but apologetic smile. "Pass for me," she said, forking a pea or four and bringing it to her lips. "Gives me nightmares."

"Well what's your poison then, darlin'?" Izzy asked. "I'll make you whatever you want." Claire considered for a moment or two, painting both Jesse and Ben with her gaze without realizing it. Then, she looked up at Izzy. Grinning.

"I'm not really in the mood for hard liquor, but I'll school you how to shot-gun a beer or five?"

Jesse felt a smile curl onto his lips, despite his mood. "I'm not as picky as Claire. Tequila's fine with me."

Ben made a face, but booze was booze and he wasn't about to turn it down. "Should I go get the limes and the salt, then?"

"If you could. They're where they always are," Izzy replied with a grin. Ben stood and moved past her toward the kitchen. "Grab a coupla cans of Corona too while you're in there!"

Claire looked down at her nearly empty plate, contemplating the possibilities of the next few hours in relation to everything going on. The idea had settled in her head with help from Izzy's suggestion of alcohol-drunk nights weren't a luxury they could often afford, and everyone needed an escape now and then. That's what had settled it. She looked up at Jesse. "So they play Circle of Death in Australia, _mate_?"

His smile lengthening, Jesse shrugged. "Do, but the rules might not be the same as your rules. I'm willing to go native for you, though."

Claire quirked her lips at him and arched a playfully challenging brow. "_Native?_ Be prepared, boy-you're up against Polish and Russian blood."

Izzy lined up the shots and unscrewed the top as they spoke, running a line of tequila all the way down with the ease of an expert. Ben gave a whistle and Izzy turned, grabbing a lime out of the air, then a second.

"Don't you dare throw that knife in the house!" she cried. Ben's laughter sliced through the immediate silence that followed.

With a grin, Jesse took Izzy's distraction as an opportunity to down one of the shots, quickly sliding the glass back. "Hey, Izzy, you missed one."

The short brunette turned to look, her lips parted to argue before she caught sight of the empty glass. Puzzlement immediately tinted her features until she caught the shit-eating grin on Jesse's face.

"Asshat," she snorted, filling the glass. "You're s'posed to have salt and a lime with it or you're doin' it wrong."

"It's drinking," Jesse said with a laugh. "As long as most of it lands in your mouth, you're doing it right." Claire's half-snorted laugh showed her agreement. Izzy scoffed at him, slicing up two limes as Ben passed Claire and Jesse two of the Corona cans.

"That's debatable," Izzy said.

"S'the basic principle," Claire said with a grin. She looked behind her on the counter, then around the kitchen in general. "Got two pens, Izzy?"

Izzy nodded and stood. "Yeah sure, one sec."

Ben ran his tongue over the web of skin between his thumb and forefinger, grabbing up the salt and shaking it on the spot as he tracked Izzy with his eyes. His hand moved on automatic as he licked the patch of salt, grabbed the shot up, and tossed it back. Izzy returned just as he was just biting into the lime wedge, presenting two pens to Claire. She, in turn, gave one to Jesse.

"You make a mess, you clean it," she warned. Claire flashed a smile at her that was then sent to Jesse, along with an arched brow.

"You heard her." She grabbed her can in a way that made it clear she was waiting for him to do the same. "Done this before?"

Jesse raised an eyebrow as he held up the can. "I have no idea what we're doing, so I'll go with no."

Claire laughed. "On three, shake the can twice, then stab it all the way through," she demonstrated with a gesture, showing how the pen would go through one side, then the other. "Pull the pen out, put your mouth over one hole and tilt your head back. First one to finish, wins."

"That's what she said," Ben said after swallowing back a second shot.

Snorting, Jesse picked up a pen, holding it at the ready. "Alright then. Count it." Claire mimicked him, her elbows braced on the table.

"One, two-"

With two hard shakes, Jesse stabbed through the can, sucking in as he brought it to his mouth. The beer shot to the back of his mouth like a hose, and he choked, jerking back and having the rest spray him in the face. Ben immediately exploded with laughter, his hand slapping down on the table. Claire was right there with him, despite the delay of stabbing her Corona.

"Karma's a bitch," she laughed, shook and stabbed her can, then shot it back. It was drained in four seconds, a little trail of beer on her chin was swiped away by the back of her hand. Izzy gave Jesse's shoulder a little shove.

"Go get a towel from the bathroom and clean up, pretty boy," she said, snickering as she set herself up a shot.

Wiping his eyes, Jesse licked at the rivulets around his mouth. "Better than other things I've had shot in my face," he quipped before heading for the bathroom. Ben watched him as he rounded the corner, chewing his lip as he looked over to Claire for a moment. Claire just snerked and rolled her eyes. After another moment of hesitation he stood and went after him, nearly running right into him on his way back out, making Jesse jump.

"Fuck, hi," he said, tensing despite himself. He shifted out of the doorway. "All yours, mate."

"I know," Ben said. He slid an arm onto the wall to bar Jesse's path, leaning in before he lost the nerve and kissing him soundly.

Hissing in a breath, Jesse didn't pull away but didn't move into the kiss either. He was as frozen as the first time Ben had kissed him. Ben sensed the lack of response and moved closer, the hand on the wall sliding up to Jesse's face instead when he finally pulled back.

"I didn't mean to snap at you," he murmured quietly.

Jesse's stomach rolled, his gaze focused to the side. At least when Ben snapped, he could feel angry at him. An apology just made him feel worse. "Don't worry about it, mate."

Ben swallowed hard, Jesse's tone and body language sending him all the signals to be left alone. It made his heart ache, but he pulled away and put distance between them.

"Okay. I just..." he shrugged his shoulders and moved around the other man, slipping into the bathroom to shut the door.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Jesse headed back to the table. Forget beer. He grabbed a glass and downed another straight shot. Claire watched with up-lifted brows. Ben had left with tension-Jesse came back with it. She pressed her lips together and bit back a complicated sigh.

"Iz," she said, forcing her attention elsewhere. "How'bout a round of I Never."

The older woman laughed, running a hand through her dark hair. "Lord, I haven't played that since I was in high school. Sure, why not?" Claire cracked open another beer and handed it to her, setting another up for herself while looking at Jesse.

"Played that one?"

Mustering up a smile, Jesse said, "Not in a while, but I still know the rules. I always end up getting shit-faced, though."

Izzy poured another round of shots and threw one back before she took a swig of beer, leaning back so the chair was left on its hind legs. She smiled wickedly, looking directly into Jesse's face:

"Never have I ever been in a threesome."

Claire nearly choked on her own breath, snapping wide blue eyes Izzy's way. They were half shocked, but also half impressed. They crinkled at the corners as she started to laugh, shaking her head as she went for a shot. It paused on the way, just so she could add: "I bet you go right for the bottom piece at Jenga, too."

Though he felt the heat rising to his face, Jesse smirked at Izzy before downing his shot. "Now just the one period, or should we take a drink for every threesome we've been in?"

"Pretty sure your ass would be under the table if we went with door number two," Izzy said with a grin. Ben returned a moment later with his cellphone in his hand.

"I'm goin' outside for a sec, I need to make a call," he said, already on his way in that direction.

Jesse's expression tightened, but he looked at Claire. "You're turn."

Claire had also watched Ben wander by the table, but gave him a light nod as he explained where he was going. Her eyes returned to Jesse, then Izzy. Pressing her lips, she sat back in her chair with a nasal sigh, linking her hands behind her head in a lazy stretch. "Never have I ever been out of the country."

Izzy smirked, her fingers lacing on the table.

Pouring another shot, Jesse saluted them with it before downing it. "All the travel you get in and never out of the country? That's just sad, ladies."

"Let the Canucks 'n the Mexicans handle their own monsters," Izzy drawled, smiling sweetly. Claire lightly chuckled, nodding in agreement, though she didn't say anything. Her thoughts were centered around how difficult it is to get a passport when you're technically supposed to be dead-but Jesse didn't exactly need a passport.

"Right. Here comes the hard part. Thinking of something I've never done." Jesse leaned back on his chair, propping it up on two legs. "Never have I ever...had a dog."

Izzy laughed, giving him a faint kick under the table. "Bitch," she said, tossing back a shot. Claire just smiled, staying exactly how she was.

"Kay my turn!" Izzy cried cheerfully. Somewhere in the yard the dogs started barking, but she didn't even turn her head. "Never have I ever danced on top of a table."

"Does a pool table count?" Claire asked with a leaning smile.

"Any table!" Jesse declared, downing his shot. Claire leaned forward and took hers, too. "Though we gotta fix that, Isobel. Where's your music?"

Izzy laughed. "Hell no, I'm not fallin' off and breakin' my neck for your entertainment!"

"We'll see how you feel after five more rounds," Claire injected, taking the initiative to fill the empty glasses from the bottle. "Never have I ever... "

The door opened, but instead of Ben, a taller, wider, and blonder man walked in, running a hand through his wet hair. "Jeez, Bel, you think you could've ordered better weather for me," he said with a wide grin. Izzy's face lit up like a flashbulb and she nearly tripped in her haste to get out of her chair, barreling toward him and jumping straight into his arms. Laughing, the man scooped her up and spun her around before taking her mouth in a deep kiss.

Too buzzed to feel all that embarrassed, Jesse watched them with something akin to fascination. Claire's expression was similarly watchful, though a bit softer. Obviously this was 'cowboy,' and she was happy for the woman, especially in her light tipsiness. The door opened just behind them and closed a second later, but with the way in blocked Ben was forced to wait. He could see Claire and Jesse at the table watching, and his stomach twisted up with complex emotions at the scene in front of him.

Izzy broke the kiss but didn't pull away, her hands still in his hair as she spoke and her eyes never leaving his face.

"Everyone, this is Jed," her voice full of light and laughter. "Jed, everyone."

"Hey how y'all doin'," he said, not looking away from her. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

"Ugh, get a room," Ben said playfully. Izzy turned her head slightly to look over Jed's shoulder and stuck her tongue at him.

"Excellent idea. Feel free to get yourselves as drunk as y'want; me and my cowboy gotta play a li'l catch-up."

Claire snickered under her breath and busied herself by pouring more shots.

Grinning, Jed didn't say a word as he carried her off to her room.

Jesse turned in his chair to watch them go, his expression thoughtful. The door closed just as Izzy started laughing. Ben leaned against the wall and rolled his eyes a little, giving a quiet chuckle.

"I suspect they're gonna get loud in a minute or two," he commented.

"Well, we can either be creepy and listen in-" Claire added dryly. "Or go play in the rain." She took down the shot in front of her, having lost count at this point.

"Naw, she's gotta have a dock somewhere," Jesse said, getting up. He stumbled over his own feet, taking a few steps to gain his balance, arms out like a plane, leaving Claire in mild hysterics. "Fuck, got up too fast."

Ben was at his side in a heartbeat to stabilize him, but he let go quickly. "There's a pool house a couple miles out. I'm good to drive if you guys wanna."

Jesse frowned at Ben's hands. "But then we gotta come back," he whined. Then a pause. "We can bring the booze, yeah?"

"Not into the pool hall," Ben said. "And we can't carry open bottles in the car. I'll get us drinks, don't worry."

Scowling, Jesse turned back around, grabbing one of the shots and taking it down. "I wanna stay here. Why we gotta go?"

"Hey, look what I found," Claire emphatically said, pulling a coin out of her pocket. "Heads, we go; tails, we blast some music in the garage." Her thumb flicked the nickle into the air, where she somehow caught it and slapped it down on the table. Heads had won. On cue, a feminine moan could be heard reverberating through the door. Ben made a face to hide the twist in his stomach.

"I'll bring the car around."

Pouting, Jesse sat hard on the chair as Ben disappeared out the door again, taking a drink directly from the tequila bottle before picking at its label. "Nobody ever lets me do what I wanna do." Claire gave him a look that wasn't all that friendly.

"_Jesus_, you whine a lot when you're drunk..." She got up with a little difficulty, nudging him out of his chair as well. "Suck it up and give them some fuckin' privacy."

Sniffling in a long breath, Jesse got to his feet and took another swig before setting the bottle down. "We can go inna garage. I don't see why we gotta go some place else."

Claire put her hand on his shoulder as they headed toward the door, gripping his shirt-both for balance and to basically keep them both moving. "Because sometimes y'gotta bend a little to make the world right again," she said, her tone hinting at a dry sarcasm, though her words were mostly truth.

Jesse scowled but fell silent.

* * *

><p>Leaning against his hand and slumping so low his chin nearly touched the bar, Jesse ordered another Jack and coke. Ben and Claire were playing pool. Jesse didn't join them 'cause he thought it was a boring game, and anyway, if he played, he'd probably be good at it, and then Ben would be mad at him again.<p>

As the drink was set in front of him, he wiped at his eyes. It wasn't like he was crying or anything, because that would be stupid and he didn't like crying in front of people. His eyes had just sprung a slow leak and he couldn't seem to turn it off.

A nagging pulled at the back of his head, growing so much that he couldn't ignore it any more. He turned around just in time to see a girl sitting a couple tables behind look away. Right. Just feeling someone looking at him.

He turned back around, taking a long swig, but that nagging was still there. He spun around, and though the world tilted, he could clearly see the girl was looking away again. But the nagging was still there, and it was definitely coming from her. He scowled. It was like he recognized her, but not in the usual way. He didn't think he'd seen her before, but then, he was awfully drunk. But there was something about her. He knew he wasn't just imagining it. Leaving his drink, he got up and started wobbly wending his way towards her.

The moment he moved, however, she stood up and rushed for the exit in a flurry of gauzy blue fabric and blonde hair. Without a thought, Jesse bolted after her. When he burst out the door, he caught sight of her dodging between cars in the parking lot, so he didn't stop, running for all he was worth. He was a fast runner, when he wanted to be, but she practically flew.

"Wait!" he shouted as she hit the treeline, but neither of them slowed.

It got harder in the woods. Jesse was stumbling nearly every other step, and though her hair and dress stood out even in the dark, he was quickly losing sight of her.

"Wait, please!"

_[ He has his eyes on you. ]_

The voice sounded like a whisper in his ears, almost lost in the rush of wind as they ran.

_[ Can't let him see can't let him see can't let him see I won't go back I can't I can't - ]_

"Stay away!" she cried out.

He stumbled, catching hold of a tree a moment before taking off again. "Whose eyes? Go back where?"

"Stay out of my head!"

_[ - They'll find us they'll find us can't let them find us won't go back won't go back - ]_

"Please, go back to the bar!"

_[ - He's so beautiful everything I dreamt he'd be want to follow him can't can't can't he'll see - ]_

"I know you!" he shouted. "How do I-"

Jesse never saw the fallen tree. It hit his shins like a bat, sending him headfirst to the ground. Pain and stars erupted in his head, and he felt a distinct snap in his nose. With a loud whimper, he curled in a ball. Healing quickly never meant it didn't hurt. The nagging suddenly increased, then there was the sensation of cool, small hands on his face. The pain was gone instantly, a rushing warmth spreading outward from her fingertips.

_[ Shouldn't shouldn't shouldn't he'll see he'll see - ]_

"I just wanted to see you," she said quietly, the words running together. "You weren't supposed to see me. I didn't want you to see me, because he might be watching through you, I can feel his mark on you."

Even through the fog of his mind, Jesse knew who 'he' was. His jaw clenched. "He's not in charge of me." His hand slid up to touch hers as he slowly sat up. "How'd you do that?"

Her eyes were so pale that it was like looking into glass. She shook her head.

_[ Can't let them hear you they may be following now can't let them find me can't let them won't go back won't go back ]_

A rush of emotions twisted around the mental whisper: fear, adoration, need, concern, and beneath it all was a deep heartbeat of devotion.

"You don't want to know."

"I do. I do," Jesse said, as though repeating it would help her believe. His eyes travelled from her face to her hands, cupping them under his. "Wish I could do that. You must be someone good."

The need and adoration doubled, expanding outward like light and color in his mind. Her hands moved in his, finding them and gripping them tightly.

_[ Hush now darling you were made to be better than anything ever alive or dead hush hush hush ]_

"You have to go," she begged. "I can't hide like you. They'll find me. Can't let them take me back. Please let me go, Jess-"

Jesse shook his head, albeit a bit wobbly. "I'm not really good. But I can protect you." He sat up straighter. "I'm gonna get that demon, and they won't take you back...back where?"

The woman made a whimpering noise, squeezing her eyes shut, but the word exploded out of her head anyway:

_[ Clifton Clifton Clifton Clifton - ]_

Her hands left his and moved up to his face. "Nobody can save me," she whispered. "I was born to die." She inhaled sharply and a moment later, Jesse's phone started ringing. "You have to run, you have to, don't go there, _promise me!_"

Even through the fog of alcohol, there was no denying it: the tremor of power in her words. It wasn't nearly as strong as his had the potential to be, and the moment she realized her own mistake her skin went milky white.

"Please," she begged. "They'll kill you."

Ignoring his phone, Jesse shook his head again. "They don't wanna kill me. I'm- They want me leading." His jaw set tight. "And if they're hurtin' people there, then we gotta go, we gotta stop 'em."

She leaned forward, her forehead pressing to his, a tremble shaking its way through her and outward into the hands still resting on either side of his face.

_[ I would follow you wherever you went to every part of the Earth and beyond it ]_

"They're my brothers and sisters," she whimpered. "And I _abandoned them_, but I couldn't stay, not when I know what's coming; I've seen it. I don't wanna die-"

_[ But I would follow you I would I would my lord my savior my master ]_

The phone went silent, but immediately started ringing again. "They'll kill us, too. I have to go, I have to go, _please_-"

"JESS!"

Jesse's head jerked at his name, but he didn't turn away, his eyes round. "You... I-I'm not your master or something. You can go, anytime, really."

_[ Don't wanna go can't go have to go won't go back there he's got his eyes on you ]_

Her hands stroked his face, the devotion still thrumming away like a racing heartbeat.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I thought-"

_[ Like moths to the flame like magnets like gravity follow follow wherever you go born to be yours ]_

"-I could get away, but I couldn't, but I can feel it now."

_[ Don't wanna go can't go have to go run run run they're coming they're coming ]_

"_Thank you._" Her lips pressed against his - brief but cool like her hands and startling him - before she pulled away with effortless grace. Then she vanished. Jesse stared at the empty air where she had been, his lips parted in shock.

"Jess-what the hell?" Claire stumbled through the brush, coming over the crest of the small hill that hid him. Her eyes were wild with booze and old panic. Ben followed on her heels, his chest heaving as though he'd been running for his life. Turning to them, Jesse's eyes were wide.

"There...there wazza girl."

Ben leaned over his knees, still gasping for breath. "W-What?" Claire leaned heavily on a nearby tree, closing her eyes to keep the dark from spinning.

"Wazza girl," he said again, looking between them. "She ran and she fixed my nose and she thought I was her master."

"Fixed your nose-?" Claire gritted while trying to catch her breath. Her brows knitted and she looked at Ben, then back to Jesse, ambling through the summer underbrush toward him with difficulty.

"How drunk are you, exactly?" Ben panted, finally pushing up to standing again.

"Really," Jesse said, tilting his head back. "But she was here. She was talkin' 'bout my d- demon. And she ran from Clifton, but we can't go, 'cause they wanna kill us, but I don't think they'd kill me."

_Not good. Not good. Not good._ Claire was busy looking around the dark woods as they approached. Despite the copious amount of liquor in her system, sober memories cued by the strange subject matter were twisting her stomach. Ben rolled his lips before chewing them, finally making his way over as well.

If there had been a girl, where was she? They would have heard someone running. He could feel a creeping sensation racing up his arms at the realization. Worse still, the word _Clifton_ sounded eerily familiar.

"C'mon, Hasselhoff. What you need is a cold shower and a cup of coffee."

Jesse scowled at him. "She disappeared. She's like me. 'Cept she can do good stuff. She fixed my head."

_That_ seemed to sober Claire up quick. She just openly stared at him, swallowing the sudden knot in her throat. She was not liking the bells that were ringing in the back of her drunken haze.

"What else did she say?" she asked, almost wishing she hadn''t.

Jesse squinched up his face, thinking. "She said she was runnin' from them, and, and she was afraid that the demon could see her usin' my eyes, but he _can't_," he said firmly. He rolled his lips in an imitation of Claire. "She said a lotta stuff in my head, but I don't think she was tryin' to."

Ben's eyes had already widened at 'disappearing,' but 'in my head' made his jaw go slack. _He can read minds?_

"Let's just..." Ben swallowed hard. "Let's get outta here, yeah? If she was running from something, chances are it's nearby."

Claire didn't say it, but the solid, sharp look in her eyes before they swung out into the darkness was an unadulterated response to her thought: _She was probably running from us._

Putting his hands at his sides to push up, Jesse pulled a face, looking at his mud-covered palms. Then he looked up. "Can summun help me up?"

Ben moved to his side, Claire on the other, bending into a crouch and sliding an arm around him to help lift him to his feet. He frowned, looking sideways at him. Claire, on the other hand, had an intense focus straight ahead of them.

"She tell you her name?"

Jesse shook his head, though he quickly stopped; it made the world spin too much. He leaned heavily on Ben. "Ruth." He paused, scowling. How did he know that?

"We'll do a database search when we get back," Ben replied, leading him through the brush with steady steps. "Maybe she's got a phone or something." He doubted it - Jesse hadn't even had a phone until they'd left Arlington - but it was worth a look.

Laying his head against Ben's shoulder as he clung to him, Jesse bit his lip. "She kissed me. I didn't kiss her or flirt or nothin', it was her, but I wanted to say." Claire felt a sudden seize in her stomach that may or may not have been exacerbated by booze. The thought mixed with the rest of the justified paranoia behind her eyes, and her grip tightened. But she kept her eyes forward, her features a little more than tense.

Ben didn't have to see Claire to know she was upset. The idea was enough to twist him up as well; it was one thing for him to make a fumble with someone he knew, but a stranger? _He's drunk. She instigated and he's apologizing. Just let it be._

"Don't worry about it," Ben murmured, squeezing Jesse's side a little. It wasn't full forgiveness, but it would do for now.

* * *

><p>Jesse had been out of it the next morning, something Ben found himself a little surprised about given the fact that the man could choose whether or not to have a hangover. Something was still clearly wrong, and it bothered Ben on a deep level, but he didn't press. The fight from the night before still stung.<p>

But they had a lead. Claire was on the mend - however currently on the phone with Lucas for the fourth time that afternoon, pacing on light feet just outside the window of the pawn shop. It was time to get a move on. Luckily Izzy was able to pull herself away from her true love's embrace long enough to start stocking them up with what she had on hand, but they needed more metals for silver and iron shot, and maybe some copper if they could find it. It was a decent enough day to start picking the pawn shops, and there were enough around that they could hit up ten or so and fill up by dinner. The fact that Jesse was eager to come along also surprised Ben, but he also kept that surprise to himself.

It was the third shop they'd stepped in, and Ben wasted no time going straight to the jewelry cabinet, keeping his small talk to a minimum outside of the specifics. Jesse was right on his heels, again. He wished at least Ben wasn't looking in the same places he was, but so far the other man didn't seem suspicious.

And then Jesse's stomach dropped to his feet. There, set aside with other pendant necklaces, was exactly what he was looking for. No question. His hands balled up but he tried to appear calm.

"Could I see this?" Jesse said, interrupting Ben. The young Latina behind the counter raised her eyebrows but didn't miss a beat. She scooped the necklace out and handed it over with a, "Sure."

Jesse bit his tongue. It felt normal. And it looked cheesy as hell. This was really something that could find God?

Ben blinked at him, his brows furrowed. It wasn't just the impulsiveness of Jesse's choosing the piece, but stranger than that was the deja vu he instantly felt upon looking at it.

"We don't need brass, though," he started, immediately reaching out to take it out of Jesse's hand, making the other man jump.

Ben's eyes suddenly widened, his pupils dilating as every nerve ending in his body seemed to fire at once. The color drained out of his face and his eyes rolled before he collapsed. The attendant shrieked in surprise. Jesse caught him before he could fall over completely, but that only heightened the panic in his eyes. Ben was nothing but dead weight.

"Ben? Ben, c'mon," he snapped, giving him a shake as he knelt on the floor. Ben's head just lolled. "CLAIRE!"

The attendant had already grabbed the store phone and was speaking into it quickly. "Hello, we need an ambulance immediately." On the other side of the large front windows, Claire's head popped up from the phone, just in time to see Ben half collapse from Jesse's grip. She probably bent the hinges on the door on her way in, without even hanging up the phone. She was at their side in the next second, her hands on his face, prying his eyelids one by one.

"_Baby_-? What happened?"

"He-He just collapsed," Jesse said, his voice hitching. His eyes left Ben's face, down to his hand where the necklace had fallen to the floor. What had he done? "What do we do, Claire? Tell me what to do."

_I don't know I don't know I don't know_ bounced around with increasing panic in Claire's head, and her heart felt like it was going to tear itself out of her chest, but she tried her best to stay cool. The fingers on the side of his throat found a pulse, and he was breathing-but that was it.

Her eyes darted around the shop, to the woman on the phone with emergency, to Jesse's frantic eyes, then down to the thing he was watching.

"Did he say anything? Did he touch anything-was it this?" She grabbed the necklace by the chord without thinking; every bit of cognitive thought lent to filtering through the possibilities.

Jesse cried out and tried to stop her too late. But nothing. "D-don't touch the figure," he said, swallowing. "I think that's what did it."

Sirens blared in the distance, steadily coming closer. Claire looked up at the store clerk, who was on her way out the door to flag ambulance down. With her jaw set, she reached into her back pocket for the worn bandanna she always had on her, wrapped the pendent several times, then stuffed it under her shirt. "We'll figure this out later-we gotta get him to the hospital."

"Give it to me," Jesse said firmly, holding out his hand. "I don't want it hurting you."

Claire's look mixed confusion and alarm, but her focus shifted when the bell over the door sounded-leading paramedics and the store owner in on their heels. "_Later_," she shot, stepping back to give the EMS room.

His stomach clenching, Jesse pulled back as well, staring down as the EMTs got to work. One of them was asking questions about what happened, but Jesse couldn't move, much less speak. Claire answered them as best she could, her eyes barely able to leave Ben's expressionless face. When they transferred him to the gurney and started for the door, the question came as to which one of them would be riding to the hospital with him. After the briefest hesitation for thought, Claire squeezed Jesse's hand for reassurance as she told them she was Ben's girlfriend, and she would go. They proceeded to load him into the bay when Claire turned to Jesse, pointedly meeting his gaze.

"Go back to the house, tell Izzy, then meet me there, okay?"

Jesse met her eyes, his expression blank. "Yeah. Okay," he lied. He knew exactly where he was going now, and it wasn't Izzy's.


	30. Extended Scene: A Little TLC

"C'mon," he said against her hairline. "Shower can wait."

She couldn't help but really hold on to the relief that he didn't press, even though she was the one who brought it up. Despite the ever present need to share a few crucial details about this supposed future with both of them, every time she tried to work up the nerve, something held her back.

He lead her by the hand back into the bedroom, and she was so glad to go, curling her fingers into the spaces between his larger ones. It felt so good to let him lead; to give over all the planning and worry and meticulous caution in order to enjoy something as simple as the way the corner of his lips quirked up, off center to the dimple there, and the way that half-grin showed a little teeth every time she caught him checking her out.

When they were back in front of the double bed - his bed, from the short amount of time he'd spent under Izzy's wing, exactly where he left it and the whole room still smelling exactly the same - Ben lowered Claire gently down to it, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he sank to his knees between her legs. His fingers gently untucked the towel from where it was held around her chest and opened it.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, running his palms up the length of her body from knee to shoulder and down again, stroking every curve. His fingers awakened every nerve ending they grazed, and sent little sparks of sensation through her blood. They pulled in her belly with a quiet breath and closed her eyes. She brushed his hair back gingerly, using a spider web's touch to caress his jaw as she dipped her chin to kiss him, unable to part from that for a couple of long moments before she did finally lie back, tracing his arms as she did so.

Ben smiled, carefully taking her hips in his hand and pulling her down the bed just enough so that he could put her legs over his shoulders. Then, with slow precision, he began tracing his tongue along her folds. Her eyes fell closed with the tiny gasp that followed. The breath melted into a soft moan as the feel of his breath coiled beneath her thighs, coaxing them to tighten and lift toward his mouth. Ben hummed in approval against her, his hands coming up into the space between the small of her back and the bed to further lift her. His tongue dipped deeper, circling her clit before pressing into her.

Her breaths deepened just like that, her hands sliding over the bed covers at her sides, delving beneath her hips and gripping the sheets. Slick and targeted pressure put more voice to her breaths before long, lightly digging her heels into his back in the slow, but desperate undulation of her hips.

He could taste her pleasure, welling up and pooling against his tongue, sweet and deeply complex as it invaded his senses. His world narrowed until there was only Claire - beautiful, perfect, glorious Claire - and his love for her. One hand slid up over her abdomen, sliding down to meet his mouth before his fingers stroked her clit.

Another gasp tightened in her midriff, and she could feel her thighs begin to tremble. Claire opened her hooded eyes, focused down the length of her subtle writhing to him. The sight parted her lips and stole her breath, kicking her heart into a fevered pace that could be heard in her voice. She could feel herself getting close; heat and pressure building at her thighs, the base of her spine, all centered where his mouth met her body.

"_Ben_- god, _yes_..." she gasped, closing her eyes again, her head tipping back. Ben pulled his hand back, shifting it up beneath her to ease two fingers into her as he focused his attention on her clit.

_That's my girl, _he encouraged her mentally, humming against her skin, his cock throbbing against the fabric of his sweat pants. _I love it when you call my name, all blissed out. Come for me, baby._

It didn't take much more than that; the hot vibration of breath and voice between her legs, and his fingers and grip. She arched deeper away from the bed, toes curled in tight, Claire's lips gaped and gasped toward the back wall as she came, gasping his name and wordless cries of abandon.

Ben's fingers withdrew as he ducked down again, thrusting his tongue into her as she rode out her climax. His body ached in sympathy, every part of him wanting her. When she finally started to come down he eased out from beneath her legs, running the back of his hand across his face as he gave her a faint smile. His hands slid up her body again as he settled between her legs, nuzzling against her breasts before his lips circled around one hard nipple. Still tingling and flushed at the cheeks and chest, Claire reached for him as he crawled over her. The cottony haze left in the wake of her orgasm couldn't cut through the ache, the hardwired _need_ that had only tripled since she first watched him from the bathroom door.

Arms wrapped around his shoulders, Claire's fingers dug in with a fragile desperation. She shifted her thighs against his hips, entwining their legs and sliding her hand through his thick, dark hair.

"Want you so bad," she moaned against his mouth, then kissed him breathless as her voice. Ben met her kiss with equal fervor, his hands coming up around hers to thread through her hair as he rutted against her. Just that little bit of pressure was enough to pull a needy noise from him, and without breaking the kiss his hands left her hair to push his pants down his hips. She helped by snagging the fabric with both heels and pushing down with her legs before they slid back up, cradling his hips with her thighs. Ben broke the kiss as his hand slid between them, his eyes dropping to look down the length of their bodies as he guided himself in. Pleasure immediately spread outward through every nerve, flooding him as his eyes met her again and he let out a low noise.

"_God,_ Claire-" he rasped, supporting his weight on one elbow and hand as he thrust in to the hilt. It pushed a shattered gasp through her lips, which then closed on the side of his mouth, Claire's nostrils flaring to accommodate for her still labored breaths. He filled her, stretched her perfectly; beneath her closed lids, her eyes rolled back as her hips arched to meet his. His pace was achingly slow, each rocking press forcing her hips to roll back against the bed. Each breath was labored as his lips trailed down her jaw, trailing down her throat.

"Don't stop-" she hushed between breaths, every part of her throbbed with heat and want, flexing in time to his thrusts. Her leg hitched up on his hip and held on; her fingers delving through his hair. He swallowed her whole, and in that moment, she'd be happy to never feel anything else. "...don't _ever stop_..."

Ben found her mouth again and kissed her deeply, his pace increasing at the sound of her plea. When he broke it he kept close, one hand coming up to stroke her face as he pressed his forehead against hers.

"Love you so much," he panted. "Feels so good, _god, _Claire, I-" His words fell short as she tilted up for another desperate, deep kiss, muting the moan in the back of her throat. She clung to him so tightly, their bodies rocked in tandem rhythm, pushing them both up through mussed bed sheets.

With each thrust, Ben's pace increased, the little sounds of pleasure escaping him with increasing frequency. He nipped at her jaw, meeting her gaze with dark, lustful eyes.

"I want you on top," he groaned. Claire's rough sound of approval vibrated against his lips as she claimed them quickly, then flexed the leg at his hip, curling it under his own. Her hands found his shoulders as she rolled them over without breaking apart from him. Her hair draped the side of her face, a heavy curtain of gold washing back over parted lips with gravity, and twitching with roll of her hips. She looked down on him hungrily, scraping her bottom lip in her teeth, lost in the look in his eyes.

"Yeah," Ben moaned, his large hands enveloping her hips as he thrust up beneath her, hard and deep, then moved them up her back to bow her body over his and claim her mouth again. The kiss was deep as the slowly increasing pace of her hips, broken only as Claire panted and moaned against Ben's open lips. She braced herself against his chest with her palms; she could feel his heart race and his breaths tight beneath the hard muscle, all adding the pool of bliss.

"_Christ-_" he hissed emphatically, his hands moving up to knead her swaying breasts, thumbs circling her nipples as he bucked up sharply beneath her. "Yeah, yeah, keep going, _yeah_."

Ben's voice stirred deep inside Claire, deep as _he_ was. It flooded her veins with fire and incited her to grind faster, cultivating the white throbs of pleasure coursing through her body. One hand shot to the headboard to support her, fingernails turning into the wood as her pace increased. Panting breaths punctuated her voice: "_Let-lemme hear you, Baby_."

"Oh _fuck-_" Ben whined, his fingers indenting her shoulders as he leaned up to meet her rocking hips. His eyes glazed over as he looked up into her flushed, wanton face, and then he was gone, his head pressing back into the pillow beneath him and his back arching off the bed. "_Fuck_- oh _god, _Claire, _yeah-_"

The sight of him lost in pleasure, the sound in his breaths turned the corners of Claire's lips up in a hot, love-drunk and satisfied grin. Her other hand moved to brace on the edge of the headboard as she rocked him through, a heady groan escaped as his aftershocks throbbed between her thighs. When Ben finally came down he very nearly melted into the mattress beneath him, his arms circling around her back and pulling her down so they were chest to chest. His mouth sought hers in a languid kiss as his right hand wove its way through her hair.

She hummed her glowing approval into that kiss, then grinned slowly against his mouth, her brow resting against his-both of them curtained by her hair, alight with the sun filtering through the shades. Reality beyond their little bubble didn't matter right then, nothing existed beyond the smell of sex, soap, and shaving cream, and the bed they destroyed.

"You look _amazing _when you come," she breathed, brushing back his hair and feeling the air conditioning draft on her hot, damp skin. Ben flushed bashfully, kissing the side of her nose as he stroked her back in long, sweeping movements with his palm. Claire melted over him, sighing contentedly as her head lay on his shoulder, her hair draped over them both like a blanket. "Or anytime, really. Except when you try to force down tequila." She chuckled warmly, her mind and vision still a bit fuzzy. His chest rumbled with a chuckle of his own as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Never was a big fan," he murmured. His hands continued to wander, always wanting to touch her and never having much opportunity to do so. She melted under his touch, soothed and comforted on a level too deep to define. Claire closed her eyes, her smile diluted by fading endorphins, but still genuine.


	31. Extended Scene: Only You

As soon as he followed Ben through the door, he shut it flat, pulling Ben to him by the shirt. Ben crushed his mouth to Jesse's, pressing up hard against him and the door, his hand fisting tightly in Jesse's short hair as the other shoved into his pants, grabbing his ass.

Giving a high keen, Jesse's hips ground up against him. He tugged up Ben's shirt, nails digging into his back. His tongue tangled with Ben's before he hooked his leg around his. With a low groan, Ben ground into him. The pleasure from the press licked its way up through his core and outward to every nerve.

"Fuck, I want you so bad," Ben growled against his mouth, rutting against him harder.

"Yeah," Jesse whined before pushing him back and yanking off Ben's shirt. Pulling off his own, he pinned Ben against the washer before taking his mouth once more. Ben grabbed his ass yet again, this time with both hands, his legs opening as he pulled Jesse's hips against him with force. With a growl, Jesse nipped his way along Ben's jaw and down his throat.

"You love my ass, yeah," he breathed, each thrust pushing him back against Ben's hands. "You want it bad, don't you?"

Ben moaned, fisting his hands in the fabric beneath his palms. "No," he said, nipping at Jesse's ear. "I... I want a go this time. You've got me one for three, and I-"

Jesse chuckled against his neck. "Didn't realize we were counting," he said, nipping at his collarbone. "If you want me to fuck you, I'm happy to fuck you. Just ask."

Embarrassment raced through him like a shot, but Ben took the hint. Lifting his hands to Jesse's face, he angled him up and pressed his forehead to against his, speaking against his open lips:

"I want you to fuck me, Jess."

The words sent a shiver down his spine, but Jesse tried not to show it. "That's more like it," he said, smirking. Then he grabbed Ben's hips and spun him around, hips pressing him to the washer before he pulled his trousers down. Anticipation put a fog in his brain, but Ben remembered to hit the start button on the dryer at least, and soon the room was filled with the rumbling white noise. Jesse gave a laugh.

"This mean you're going to be really loud for me?" he said, giving Ben's ass a smack. The sting of his palm went right to his dick and Ben groaned, pressing uselessly into the cold metal of the washer.

"Chances are high," came his breathless answer.

Grinning, Jesse undid his pants, freeing his cock, sliding along Ben's asscrack. Giving his ass a squeeze, Jesse twisted a hand in Ben's hair, pulling back and sliding his fingers to the man's mouth. "Give it a suck," he said, his voice gravelly. Ben screwed his eyes shut and whimpered at the request, taking them as deeply as he could before he felt his body start to convulse. Clenching his fists on the washer, he pulled his head back again and tried once more, rolling his tongue along the pads of his fingers and imagining it was Jesse's cock. When he finally pulled them free Ben nipped at his fingertips, pressing his ass back against him.

"Yeah, that's my boy," Jesse said with a growl, slowly sliding a finger into Ben. He kept the pressure gentle but insistent. Ben let his head loll forward, supported by Jesse's hand in his hair, gasping at the invasive press. _Relax, relax, relax-_

"Yours, always yours," he whined, hands clenching and unclenching on the hood of the washer. "Keep talkin' to me, I wanna hear you."

"Yeah? You want to hear me as I fuck your tight ass?" Jesse said, leaning forward to nip at Ben's ear. His hips rocked gently, his cock between his hand and Ben's asscheek. "'Cause you feel so good. And you love it, don't you? You act all big shot, but what you really want is me to pin you down and fuck you hard."

For all that Ben knew Jesse was just trying to rile him up and make him writhe, his words weren't far from the truth. The heat of his chest against his back was like delicious fire, and the twisting, thrusting finger was stoking the flames. Ben pressed back into it, one hand reaching behind him to grab at Jesse's hip.

"Please, please, _please,_" he begged.

Jesse chuckled. "You're such a needy man," he said, before slowly working to add a second finger. "That what you want? You want more?" Ben tensed up again, even stronger than with the first one, a whimper escaping him as he felt the stretch. _Breathe, breathe, breathe, relax,_ his inner mantra chimed.

"Yeah," he gasped, the word nearly lost in the white noise of the empty tumbling dryer. "Fuck me open with your fingers, I wanna feel your thick cock fill me up, _god, Jess-_"

"Oh I will," Jesse reassured him, shifting his fingers inside him. "I'm going to make you scream, Ben. Make you beg." His free hand pressed between Ben's shoulder blades, shoving him down flat on the machine top. Ben let go of his feeble grasp on Jesse's hip, shoving his hand into the small space between himself and the side of the washer to grip his cock and pump it desperately.

It was a moment before Jesse realized what he was doing, and when he did, he gripped Ben's hair again. "Oh no, you don't. That's _mine_. You have to wait your turn."

Ben whined in protest. He knew Jesse had spent time with Claire, and even without his powers he'd know how to pin him properly now if he wanted to. The thought was a little exciting in all honest truth, fighting Jesse for dominance, their naked bodies pressing against each other.

But it would mean him stopping, and Ben definitely didn't want him to stop.

"Please," Ben begged, dropping his hand away. "Please, fuck me, I need it, Jess, I _need_ it, _please-_"

"Oh yeah, you fucking little slut, you love it," Jesse said, giving a couple more thrusts with his hand before pulling out. He positioned himself at Ben's entrance, his whole body giving a throb of need, but he held Ben's hips pinned. "This is what you want, yeah?"

Something about the question, maybe the tone or the fact that he even asked it, was enough to turn Ben's head back to look at Jesse. As a result, something in his chest flipped over, stealing his breath and for a moment he couldn't speak.

"I... wanna face you," he said thickly, feeling his face burn with the request. "But yeah. I do. I want all of you, Jess. Always."

The sincerity of Ben's words pierced through Jesse's play with a jolt, his chest feeling as though it was swelling. Turning Ben around, he cupped his face before meeting his mouth in a languid kiss. When he pulled back, he looked around a moment before grabbing a basket of dirty laundry and dumping it on the tile floor.

Pressing another kiss to Ben's neck, Jesse whispered, "I'm going to love watching your face as I come inside you."

Ben slid his arms around him, embracing him tightly for a moment as he took a steadying breath. Jesse's words gave him a thrill, but not nearly as much as the mental image they placed inside Ben's head. There was only one real problem to the whole situation:

"I wanna suck you off first," Ben said into his ear, his voice low.

The control he'd been holding onto crumbled, making it all too clear to Jesse that he really was just putty in Ben's hands. "Yeah?" he said, trying to put strength behind his voice even though he didn't feel it. "Better get on your knees then."

Ben nodded, kissing him deeply for a moment, his hands threading through Jesse's hair as the pleasure rolled through him like a wave. Then he pulled back, dropping down to his knees, his hand circling around the base of Jesse's cock as he took him in past his lips as deep as he could go. Jesse bit his lip hard, his eyes rolling shut. He leaned forward, gripping tight to the washer before finally looking down again.

"That's my eager little cocksucker," he said, giving a shallow thrust to go with his smile. "Go on. Show me what you got."

Ben moaned in answer, fighting off the urge to take up his own dick, his hands balling into fists at Jesse's hips. He dragged his tongue along the length of his shaft over and over from base to crown, tracing the crest of the underside as he drew back to suckle on the tip before plunging down again.

"Aw, yeah," Jesse breathed. His hand curled in Ben's hair, though he didn't put any pressure on. "You were born for this, you and your perfect mouth. Suck it like that, Ben. Show me how much you want it."

It was getting a lot harder not to jerk off, and after a few more deep bobs and focuses on all the little places that made Jesse twitch subtly beneath his mouth, Ben finally pulled back. Jesse's cock was more than ready, slick with his saliva, and Ben traced his tongue briefly in a circle along the top ridge.

"Fuck me, Jess," he moaned, his eyes glazed over as he looked up the length of Jesse's torso and into his face. "I want you to. If I wait any longer, I'll go crazy, _please._"

That was all Jesse needed to hear. Twisting Ben around with him, he pinned him against the pile of clothes, taking his mouth in a brutal kiss as his hands pulled up Ben's legs to his shoulders. Settling at his entrance, Jesse paused and pulled back, studying Ben's face.

"You alright?"

His lips were dark red from the kiss, and his pupils blown to the edges of his irises, but Ben's smile was nothing short of warm and colored with adoration.

"Yeah," he hummed out, working one arm out from where it was trapped between his side and Jesse's arm to slide it up to the man's shoulder. "Better than alright."

Jesse's expression softened into a smile. Then slowly, gently, he eased inside. "You're gorgeous," he groaned. Ben couldn't stop the way his eyes fell closed for a half second as the pleasure surged through him, undercut by the glorious stretch. He let out a gasp and arched beneath Jesse, his fingertips indenting into the meat of his shoulder.

"Fuck, I love you," Ben replied, his voice high and breathless. "So much, Jess, you'll never know it."

It was hard to keep his hips in check, his grip tightening on Ben's legs. "I love you, too," Jesse said. Ben craned his neck to kiss him, bringing the hand on his shoulder up to Jesse's neck in order to pull him down while his other hand moved between them, finally circling around his cock. The twin sensations sent his pulse racing and he moaned helplessly.

Jesse plunged into the kiss, simultaneously sinking in deeper. As he attacked Ben's mouth, he eased more and more in until he'd filled him completely.

Pulling back, he realized where Ben's hand had gone. "What did I tell you?" he said, breathless but stern. He snaked a hand between them, pulling Ben away from himself. "Only I get to get you off, Ben."

The lean against him somehow put the next thrust directly against the sweet spot deep inside him and Ben gave a little cry, his body arching straight off the floor. "Oh, _fuck,_ Jess, I- _please,_ please touch my cock, _please._"

Instead, Jesse stopped moving completely. Ben whined, his hips bucking up beneath him, trying to get him to move again. "Eventually," Jesse teased, giving him a quick kiss. "You have to be patient, though."

"You're doing this because of what I said before, aren't you?" Ben pressed, the whine still twisted up in his voice.

"Maybe," Jesse said, pressing a kiss to the corner of Ben's mouth. "Or maybe it's just because you did it to me and I'm looking for revenge."

Ben's cock twitched between them as he moaned, once again trying to get a hand around the body pinning him down to touch himself. "Don't act like you didn't like it," he replied breathlessly.

"I did," Jesse said, snagging one of Ben's wrists and then the other. "I'm paying you back. So stop ruining it."

Not about to take his word for it this time, Jesse pinned Ben's hands at his sides as he slowly started rocking his hips. Ben inhaled sharply, his head tipping back as a lusty whimper escaped him and he canted his hips into the thrust. It wasn't until he'd started moving that Ben really noticed just how deep Jesse was, and the hedonistic sounds escaping him looped onward, punctuated by each shallow breath he took.

"Like that, huh?" Jesse said with a smirk, his grip tightening on Ben's wrists as he lengthened his thrusts. "Fuck, you're so tight. Your sweet virgin ass, saved just for me."

Ben's hands tightened and released as he briefly fought the hold on his wrists, his expression sated with bliss and need. "Kiss me," he begged, his neck craning upward to claim his mouth.

Jesse's mouth descended on him, his grip still tight as he plunged inside. His hips snapped faster, deeper, wanting to take every part of him, make him squirm. He nipped at Ben's lip as he pulled back, still sharing the same breath. "I love you. I...I just, I do."

Ben nuzzled his nose against Jesse's, a breathless little moan escaping him before he could find the words to reply. "I know," he said, their lips brushing with the words. "Love you, too. Only you like this. Feels so good, Jess, don't stop."

"Never," Jesse said with a grin. He upped the pace, the heat surging through him.

"Let my hands go," Ben pleaded, canting his hips up into Jesse's thrust and using his muscles to squeeze around him. "Please. I won't touch myself, I promise, I just- I wanna touch you. Lemme touch you, baby."

Jesse hesitated, torn between the desire to have Ben's hands on him and the fun of having him pinned. In the end, he gave in, shifting his hands to splay on either side of Ben's head. Ben's arms immediately circled around Jesse's back, palms flat as they traveled up the dip of his spine up to his shoulders where his grip tightened briefly. Then he doubled back, dragging his nails as he went, his hands settling on Jesse's ass as he canted up and clenched around him.

"You're so fuckin' amazing," Ben breathed out.

Grinning wide, Jesse said, "I know." His eyes fell closed as he pumped deep into Ben, relishing in the pressure of his hands. "Fuck, you fit me so perfect, Ben. Made just for me."

"Only you," Ben echoed, pulling him against him harder with his hands and ankles. "_Fuck,_ you're so deep." The pleasure hit him in waves, over and over following the pace of Jesse's thrusts, each one a little more intense than the last. Ben could feel it twisting in his belly, and desperately pulled Jesse to him at a pace he wanted. "More, more, please, I can- it's- _please make me come,_ Jess, please, _please-_"

Jesse had planned on pulling back, stopping and making Ben come down one more time. But it felt too good, and he wanted to feel Ben clenching around him. Reaching between them, he took a hold of Ben's cock, pulling in time to his thrusts. "Yeah, yeah, come for me, Ben, I wanna hear you _scream_."

Ben's back arched and his head tipped back, jaw slack as whimpering noises escaped him. "Yes, yes, _fuck- me-_ oh _god_ Jess-" and then it crashed into him, his body thrashing and his hands moving up to hold on tightly to Jesse's shoulders, hot threads of spunk pooling in the dip of his chest.

Watching his face, the swing from desperation to full pleasure, the way he surged and clenched around him, Jesse snatched up Ben's hips, pounding him down into the clothing until he came with a gasp. His whole body twitching, he slid off of Ben, though he kept one arm draped around him. Ben panted against him as though he'd just finished running a mile, grasping randomly at the mess of clothes beneath him and finding a shirt to wipe himself clean. His whole body felt like it was tingling. It was incredible.

Jesse curled in close against him, brushing Ben's hair aside as he studied his profile. After a few moments, a smile spread on his face. "Y'know, I'm really glad I decided to shag you instead of Izzy," he teased.

Ben felt a flush burn against his face, the mixed emotions back and twisting in his chest.

"Oh yeah? Whyzzat?" he prompted, his tone drawling and lazy.

Pressing a kiss to the corner of Ben's mouth, Jesse said, "For one thing, you're much prettier than she is. Almost on my level, really."

For a moment, Ben could have sworn he felt a tug-of-war for loyalties happening inside his head - partly to defend Izzy, and partly in pleasure at the near-compliment - but a resounding tug on his more smug side won. Still, there was no denying the burn in his face growing warmer.

"Go on," he encouraged, his eyes falling closed at the attention.

"And you beg so wonderfully," Jesse purred, nipping his ear.

Ben's shoulder drew up into his neck a little at the nip out of reflex, feeling a faint tickle, then turned on his side to better face Jesse. The ground was a bit hard despite the clothes, but he tried to ignore it.

"I dunno, that may be one more thing you're better than me at, the begging," he murmured.

Jesse gave a breath of a laugh. His expression softened, though, his hand tightening at Ben's side. "And because it's better when you love the person. And so much better when they love you, too."

Any mixed feelings inside him were wiped away and Ben leaned in close, tangling a leg between Jesse's as he slid a hand up to cradle his face. The words pierced through him, lodging in his heart and filling him with limitless adoration. Ben pressed his lips to Jesse's, kissing him slowly, pouring every part of himself into it.


	32. Extended Scene: Wrap My Words Around You

Summer nights in Maryland weren't much different than the summer nights in Alabama, or any other southern state. Sure, the humidity was slightly less oppressive: little summer squalls didn't come and go every fifteen minutes here, and that was a plus-but the heat was the same. Claire could hear the crickets out in Izzy's junk yard singing away as the twilight melted into a rich, velvet navy blue. Lightning bugs blinked in the distance, disappearing in the slivers of light that came from the garage, where Ben and their host were working on making the GTO not look like it'd recently rolled off a cliff.

The sound of water shutting off clued her in to the whereabouts of the only other occupant in the house. She and Jesse had always had a different dynamic than what she shared with Ben. Though her reasons for attachment to the cambion were stitched slightly different than with the other member of their hard-to-define relationship, that didn't mean she loved him any less. It did, however, make certain things a little more difficult for Claire to define or understand. Also, in light of the recent angel-induced vision of the future, there was some tension between them that Claire didn't know what to do with. She could sense it from him-a fear she understood, but couldn't soothe, and that in turn, frightened her as well. It was hard to shake the vision; the look in the eyes of the older-version of him, and everything she knew he'd done.

Though as much as it frightened her, it also firmly resolved how in love she was with the Jesse she had here, and now.

She found him with his back to her, sitting on the edge of the bed after an obvious shower. Without a word, her knee creased the bed spread as her weight settled behind him, a light brush of her fingers traced his neck to his shoulder, and down his spine, making his back stiffen. She pressed her lips to the other shoulder, then rested her chin there, meeting his eyes with a gentle smile. He smiled back, but it was hesitant. It shouldn't be this way. He should melt easily into her touch, and automatically have something flip or flirtatious to say that would make her smile wider. Instead he kept remembering how scared and frantic she'd looked as she held his face in her hands, and the promise he made that he might have already broken.

"Hi," he said, quieter than he meant to be.

Though his expression was difficult to read in depth, that tension was still there. Claire's stomach tightened; her automatic reaction was to drape her arms around his chest and squeeze him in, her nose nuzzling in close to his jaw.

"Have I told you how proud I am of you?" she hushed against his neck, ignoring the tickle of her hair as it fell from her shoulder around to his.

Guilt settled like marbles in his stomach. He gave a shrug. "Any reason why? All I did was take a shower, and I've been doing that a while now." The comment pulled a genuine chuckle out of Claire, her nod and smile pressed into his still warm skin.

"No wonder you're so good at it," she teased a little, leaning back a bit so she wasn't pressing him off the bed, but her thin top still clung to the moisture on his back.

He let out a breath, his hand resting on her arm, and thought about what nightmares had been like for him. The one thing he'd wanted most was someone there, some sort of comfort to bring him back to reality. And Claire was looking for that from him. Turning his head, he nuzzled the side of her head before pressing a kiss to her temple. Claire's eyes closed with the warm gesture; she felt the knot in her stomach shift and loosen, but another tightened in her chest.

"I mean it, though," she continued on after a moment of quiet. She squeezed him once more, finding the desire to be closer unsatisfied until she was basically sharing the same space. She'd never been so clingy, and a part of her was uncomfortable with it-but she didn't care. At the moment, his warmth and his realness was everything she needed. "You've come a long way, and it hasn't been easy. I'm proud to be next to you."

Jesse tried to swallow but couldn't. There was so much he wasn't telling her, that he was too afraid to tell her. He didn't know how to handle her words. Instead, he shifted away from them. "What did I do? In the dream," he asked quietly.

Claire tensed inside, but tried her best not to show the reaction outwardly. Her grip on him got a little tighter, and a sigh replaced words that she knew she didn't want to say. _He deserves to know_ came a voice in her head, but even that was uncertain.

She pressed her lips to his shoulder, briefly, then breathed through her words. "Are you sure you want me to answer that?"

"No," he said honestly, his hand tightening on her arm. "But if I know, then maybe I'll know how to stop it from happening." _Or know if some of it already happened._

"There's a lot I don't know-" It was a while before Claire could say anything, and even as she started, she was still second guessing herself. "He dropped me more than a decade into the supposed 'future'..." her voice trailed off a bit after tightening, tensing with the memory of having to play _catch up_ with Amitiel's sick little 'life lesson'. She closed her eyes, fighting the sick feeling in her stomach. "By then, everything had already happened. At some point, you left us-I don't know why." Another sigh rolled from her lips. This one lightly quivered. "From there, everything went to Hell."

Jesse frowned, turning towards her as best he could in her tight embrace. "I would never leave you." His thoughts jumped to his bargain with the demon. "Not for real, and not forever."

Claire loosened her grip so he could twist around. The look on his face was the brick wall on which a lot of her thoughts crashed; it was sincere, but also contained a hint of desperation she couldn't really place. Her lips pressed together; her unwitting show of concern. She touched his face and traced his cheek with her thumb before leaning in for a gentle, but needed kiss, which he softly met. His arms slid around her as he pulled away from the kiss, settling for holding her close.

"I don't want to ever see you afraid of me again," he said.

Something about the underlying truth in those words sent a cold shock through her. She hadn't addressed her own feelings that directly, but there it was, all laid out. She'd been scared when she came out of that dream-and Jesse had seen right into it. Swallowing lightly, she rested her cheek on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Her hands idly roamed his back; Claire was focusing on everything that he was, here and now, forcing the image of the older him as far out of her head as possible.

"S'just a dream," she murmured finally, squeezing him close and breathing him in.

"It is. Doesn't keep them from sucking, though," he added, closing his eyes to better take in the feel of her. After a moment, he added, "You scared me, too. In one of my dreams. But I know I'm safe with you."

She pulled back just enough to focus on Jesse's face, a gentle, but genuine smile on hers. Rather than cheapen the instant comfort that confession gave her with more words that were already conveyed on her expression, Claire quirked teasing brow, resting her forehead on his. "Among other things," she promised, a little extra warmth in her voice.

He smiled, biting his bottom lip, though nothing could quite convey the sheer surge of adoration he felt for her. "Yeah? What things?"

"Oh, let's see," she grinned, so close that she brushed his lips in the process. "Constantly scrutinized? I haven't worn out the bad-ass-teacher thing yet, have I?"

"No," he said, his hand slipping down her back. "Still love your bad ass." She snickered low and warm under her breath, her shoulders pulled back as a smooth reflex to the graze of his hand.

"S'good to know," she said, sitting back a bit so she could trace his bare chest with her fingertips, though her eyes stayed hotly trained on his. "Wouldn't want you to get bored."

He chuckled even as he quivered under her touch. "Being bored is the last thing I have to worry about with you." Pause. "Unless you're making me do research."

"Oh, you'll just have to suck that part up," she purred, her grin tilting as she teased his skin with a little more of her nails. "But I'll make up for it."

Hissing in an appreciative breath, Jesse dipped his head, kissing along her neck. "Guess I can live with that," he said, sliding a thumb up under the hem of her shirt. Claire lifted her chin, her belly pulled in with a slow inhale that put heat in her voice.

"You _guess_?" she teased, punctuating the cottony words with a playful nipple-pinch.

He came just short of squealing. "Alright, alright, I can live with it. Taskmaster."

Claire's giggle was warm as his hands, still fresh from the shower. Her own slid around his muscled torso around to the back, bringing her lips close to his chin. "Taskmaster?" She couldn't help it. "S'that a kinky nickname or a computer program?"

A blush rose to Jesse's cheeks and he leaned down to give her bottom lip a nip. "You prefer something like bossypants?" Claire snerked, her grin lengthening.

"Maybe," she said, smoothly gliding the rest of the way across his lap. "But guess who's not wearing bossy_panties_." It was late, and sleeping-shorts were comfortable in this heat. Laundry day also had impeccable timing.

Giving a happy and needy little growl, he grabbed her thighs and rolled her, pinning her to the bed. "Have I told you I love you, my dirty girl?" Claire puffed the pale hair away after it sprawled across her eyes, but her crooked grin couldn't be contained for long. She gave his hips a good, solid squeeze with her thighs, dragging her legs on the inside of his, mussing the towel draped around them.

"I think so, but you can remind me."

"Mm, I love you," he said, taking her mouth in a kiss. His hand tugged at her shirt, baring her stomach. "I love how you always surprise me..." He cupped her breast. "I love how you fit to me..." Claire purred out a breath and bent to the touch. Her eyes were already a bit hooded, but locked on Jesse's face. The gravel quality in his voice shaped into those words stirred inside her. Familiar and craved, innocent in their own way; she didn't want it to stop.

"Keep going," she encouraged, lifting her head off the covers to kiss slowly along his neck.

He smiled, eyes closing as he relished in the heat of her lips. "I love when you take control. And I love when you give in." His hand left her to travel lower and under her shorts, finding her bare as she'd said. He couldn't help but run his finger along her slit. Her teeth scraped the sensitive skin beneath his ear in response. "I fucking love how wet you get for me."

"Which do you want right now?" a light groan sweetened her whisper, her hips pushed up into his hand. Her grip on his shoulders dug in.

Chuckling low in his throat, he slowly slid a finger into her. "I wanna take you right now. Then you can take me back." Claire chuckled hotly around her caught breath, closing her lips over Jesse's pulse point and sucking in deep. That, and the languid moan at the back of her throat, was a clear show of approval for what he was doing.

With an approved murmur of his own, he shifted, his hips grinding against her thigh as he upped the pace of his hand. "I love your mouth, too. The things you do with that pretty, dirty mouth." He slid another finger into her with ease. An airy whine vibrated her lips on his skin until they let go, and Claire pulled in a deep breath. Her eyes closed, reflexively following the spit-slick glide of his fingers.

"_-god_," she rasped, her head dipping back into the bed and the halo of her hair.

He looked down at her, breathless for a moment. "Beautiful. So fucking beautiful." He scissored his fingers even as his palm pressed down hard against her clit, catching another breath in her throat. She looked at him, hot in her growing need.

"_Fuck_, Jess..." she whimpered, lifting up for a desperate kiss, but another sharp spike of pleasure closed her eyes and rolled her hips off the bed.

"That's my girl," Jesse growled, before saving her the trouble and bringing his mouth crashing onto hers. His hand surged deeper, pressing and exploring to the snap of her hips. The kiss swallowed the higher pitches that came with Claire's jagged breaths, squirming beneath him until a sharp throb shot through her body. Her lips fell open, the pit of her spine pulled away from the bed.

The doorknob suddenly twisted, but the figure sliding in was a lot more subtle Ben had heard the murmuring noises at the door as he'd approached, having seen neither Claire nor Jesse lingering anywhere in the house and knowing that usually only meant one thing. He'd thought briefly of letting them alone to have some time together - it was only fair, after all - but then found himself wondering why he had to be absent for that to take place. They could be together without him participating.

Plus, it was hot. He knew for a fact that Jesse had a kink about being watched, and it wasn't often that he got to really take pleasure in looking at either of them; usually, his body was too actively involved in whatever it was they were all doing. Making sure to lock the door behind him, he leaned back against it and turned his eyes to them, a slow but silent smile on his face.

His hand riding Claire through the orgasm, and his eyes on every inch of her gorgeous body as he made it writhe, it was a moment before Jesse noticed the shadow in the corner of his eye that hadn't been there before. When he looked up and met Ben's gaze, he felt his whole body flush warm with pleasure, need, and a smidge of embarrassment.

"Looks like we have a viewer, Claire," he said, his hand slowing but not withdrawing from her. The apples of her cheeks flushed and tingling, Claire's breaths were still hard and ridden by her voice, even on her way down. Jesse's voice cut through the haze, though, and she opened her eyes, following his gaze to a point behind her. In her lingering fog, she smiled at Ben, feeling a fever suddenly spread through her face. Her chuckle was hot and breathless, and melted into another moan.

"Looks like I missed the previews," Ben murmured, his hand coming down to press against his groin. "Damn. Any chance for a rewind, or is this a one-time playthrough?"

His gaze lingering a moment on Ben's hand, Jesse said, "I told Claire she got to take charge after that one, so what happens is up to her."

Ben nodded, moving over to the nearby chair by the desk and turning it so he could watch better, his legs settling wide apart on the wood floor.

"Right then. Don't mind me," came his quiet reply, his eyes spanning back and forth between Claire's face and where Jesse's hand was still nestled between her legs. She could feel her thighs quivering, even after the aftershocks had already faded, all thanks to the constant, steady friction that kept her breathless.

"You need t'fuck me-" she whined, just a few shades shy of feral, her head falling back to the bed. Ben felt his cock twitch at her words and quickly unzipped his jeans, shoving his hand past the relaxed fabric and circling his cock. He very nearly stood to comply before he realized the words were aimed towards Jesse, not him.

"You heard her, Jess," Ben said, his voice low and deep.

Feeling dizzy just looking between them, Jesse pulled back and lifted Claire's legs straight in the air to strip off her shorts. "Look at our girl, Ben," he said, running a hand on the smooth underside of her ass. "Going without panties, just so she can be ready for us to take her."

Ben pulled his lower lip in between his teeth, feeling a heady rush both at Jesse's words - _our girl_ - and at the sight of Claire's exposed body. His hips lifted slightly as he thrust up into his fist but he kept silent, smiling around his lip. Claire's expression almost mirrored his; a hungry look in her eyes, sharpened by the complex feelings-all good-that Jesse's words and Ben's tangible presence stirred inside.

She bowed deeply, taking her hands from Jesse long enough to peel the tank top off her shoulders and toss it blindly. Grinning, Jesse couldn't help but lean over and taste her breast as he wriggled his towel completely open. He didn't linger long, though, his hand sliding under her hips as he guided himself to her entrance. Leaning over, he took her mouth in another kiss as he slowly slid in. Claire flexed up to meet him, a languid moan dissolved into their kiss, which Ben echoed from the chair not far from the bed, untucking from his jeans so he had a fuller range of motion. The exposure to the colder air in the room made him shiver in pleasure. His eyes were fixed on the place where they were joined, his mind filling in the sensory memories - His joining with Claire, joining with Jesse, Jesse taking him. His hips arched again and kept moving, his jaw going slack.

Ben's noise sending a flair of heat through him even as Claire enveloped him, Jesse pressed in to the hilt before looking over at him. The sight pulled a growl from his throat. Ben was achingly gorgeous with his cock in hand, all the more so because of the heat burning in his eyes as he watched them. His mouth found Claire's throat as he said, "Look at him, Claire. Look at how much he likes watching me fuck you."

But she already was watching, lips gaped and eyes glossed over with the sensory overload. Jesse's words were like warm velvet in her ear and on her skin; that combined with the deep ache from the electric eye-contact with Ben tipped her chin back, arching her throat. With more breath than voice, she whispered, drawing her arms up through her hair to grip the edge of the bed behind her. "Then let's give'im a show..."

With a chuckle, Jesse hooked a hand under her knee, stretching her until her leg was over his shoulder. He nearly withdrew completely before thrusting in even deeper than before. Ben pumped a little faster at Claire's words, assaulted by the memory of Jesse and the girl in Madison. Only this time, it was so much better.

He could reach out and touch them if he wanted to. Every fiber of his being demanded that he should, but he held back, his eyes following the long length of Claire's leg all the way down to Jesse's cock pistoning into her.

"Christ," he gasped, twisting his hand around the head of his cock as he focused there. Claire's grip on the edge of the mattress tightened, bunching the covers in her fingers. The leg not in Jesse's hand dug in with her heel at his side, grounding them both. Her gasps and breasts were jarred by the snap of Jesse's hips, giving her voice a pained, euphoric quality.

"Tell us-what you want," she rasped. Ben shuddered again, swallowing hard.

"Fuck," came the utterance, his hips jerking. "You're doin' pretty damn good without my help, baby."

Grinning, Jesse's hand traced the length of Claire's torso even as he continued to pound into her. His fingers lingered where he could feel himself sliding into her before moving up, his thumb tweaking her clit, pulling a sudden whine from her lips. "There's my girl," he said, looking down at her through hooded eyes.

Ben bit his lip, watching Jesse's hand with intensity as Claire writhed against his touch. They were so incredibly hot together, it made his blood sing and his body ache with need. His eyes drifted to the slope of Jesse's back as his lizard brain brought up the images of the three of them back in Louisiana. Technically it _was_ Jesse's turn.

_No, no, this is about them,_ Ben told himself again as he pumped his cock furiously. _Not me. Them having this moment. Don't take that away from them._

Breathing hard, Claire's eyes opened after another spike of pleasure made them clench. She painted the rippling flex of Jesse's torso up to his face. The intensity and heat behind his gaze pumped gasoline through her veins, and sparked a sudden, spur of the moment desire. Without as much as a warning, she let go of the edge of the bed and hooked her free leg around Jesse's. Without breaking away, she rolled him hard-her hands planted on his shoulders, the shift of her hair as wild as her gaze.

His breath left him as she pinned him, back rolling as he thrust up into her. His eyes locked with equal fervor on hers. Pressing his hand eagerly against her, he brought his other up to cup her face. "I love you," he said breathlessly.

The lust that had fueled Ben's movements immediately dimmed, though not in a negative way. If anything he felt a twinge of alienation, like he had definitely intruded on them. His hand slowed to a stop, but he didn't turn his eyes away.

Claire felt a shudder through her breath, and turned her lips to kiss Jesse's palm. Still moving, rolling rhythmically from the tips of her shoulders to her hips, she took both his hands in hers, lacing her fingers through the spaces between. The moment was electrifying, but between the skips in her racing heart, there was definitely something a little out of place.

Without thinking of it, Claire found herself looking over at Ben. The complex things in his gaze were overshadowed by the realization in her own-that unfathomable need for him to be closer. She was consumed by it, briefly letting go of Jesse's hand to beckon Ben with the crook of her finger. Ben chewed his lips in response, heat flaring in him again, his eyes moving from hers to Jesse's.

Jesse met them with a needy smile, reaching out along the bedsheets toward him. Ben inhaled sharply, tucking himself away in order to drag the chair closer.

"Don't stop," he said once he was within reaching distance, tugging his jeans down past his hips and circling his fingers around the base of his cock again. Claire continued to rock, sliding herself deep and achingly slow upon Jesse, one palm flat on his chest while the other shoved her hair out of her eyes. She could hear, and _sense_ Ben's closeness, and every breath tightened a little more with the anticipation.

Jesse squirmed under her, desperate for something faster but held well in place. So instead his hand worked harder at her clit while the other slid up to cup her breast. "So fucking gorgeous," he murmured, giving a squeeze. "Feels so good."

Ben took a shaky breath, his hand falling into pace with the rock of Claire's hips as his free hand drifted up to stroke her back. Her skin was like oiled satin, soft and wonderfully smooth, and once he slid down to her hip he pulled his hand away, his palm coming down to smack the curve of her ass. Claire's voice rang clearly in the sharp gasp that followed. The sting melted perfectly into the heat that burned her skin from below, along with Jesse's targeted touch between her legs. Her pace quickened along with her breaths, already uneven. Jesse's head fell back, even as his hands kept up their work. His hips snapped up each time she shifted, creating a cacophonous rhythm but all Jesse wanted was more.

"That's it, that's it," he said through gritted teeth. Ben stroked the reddening spot, then brought his hand down again as he squeezed his cock and bucked his hips a half-second later than Jesse. He wanted nothing more than to fit himself up against them, giving and taking, and it was becoming increasingly harder to deny himself of that unspoken need. His hand slid to Jesse's side, stroking up and inward along his chest to rake his nails along one pebbled nipple.

The touch brought a gasp, Jesse's head turning to him. A moan bubbled up in his chest, and he pulled his hand from Claire's breast to reach out, his hand closing over Ben's as it slid along his cock. Ben moaned, his head tipping back hard as his hips lifted into the next thrust. Even without feeling the direct contact, just the fact that he could feel the heat in Jesse's hand against the back of his palm sent lightning through his nerves.

"Yeah," he groaned. "Oh, _fuck-_"

Claire rocked faster, losing herself with each flex of her thighs; the sounds of ecstasy that came from both of them driving her closer to the edge. She twisted one hand back, reaching behind her and between Jesse's legs, lightly brushing the sensitive skin there.

With a tight cry, Jesse's every muscle tensed, his heels digging into the bed. "Yes, oh _yes_ that's it!" he keened, back arching. "So close! Fuck me, Claire!"

A small, almost feral smile turned up the corners of Claire's mouth as she watched Jesse tense and squirm. She put a bit more pressure behind her fingers, brushing them with the same rhythm as her hips. "Good boy," she groaned, teetering on the edge herself, but holding it back just a little longer.

One hand twisting in the sheets, Jesse came with a cry, hips snapping erratically as his hand clenched over Ben's, pulling a little whimper out of the other man as he tried to pump himself faster. Ben watched his face with rapt attention, wishing he could lean in to kiss him, but he couldn't bring himself to stop in his effort to try and get off. Claire deepened the roll in her spine, riding Jesse through the crest of his orgasm with that same satisfied smile on her face, even if it was cut by her rapid breathing. The palm on his chest traced down slow, dragging her nails lightly as she became much more aware of Ben's furious movement to the side.

It was either the heat in his eyes or surging through her system, but both combined left a sharp glint in her eyes as she pulled herself from Jesse, settling on his side, opposite and facing Ben. She held his eyes as her hand circled the base of Jesse's cock, still slick with the mixture of both him and her, and took the tip slowly between her lips.

A shocked gasp pulled from Jesse, rolling his head up to look up at her even as the rest of him stayed bonelessly sprawled. "Oh fuck, Claire," he panted, his fingers flexing. "You're going to kill me." His head fell back, eyes fluttering closed. "And I don't care. Do it. Whatever you like."

Ben twisted his hand around the head of his cock, feeling the boiling sensation of his pending orgasm working up through his veins. _So close so close so close,_ but the question was did he allow himself to finish, or try and milk it for what it was worth. He wanted to come _so badly_, and watching as Claire delicately and carefully cleaned Jesse off was rapidly making it harder for him to rule in favor of the prolonging.

She continued to watch Ben as she slipped down slow, leading with the flat of her tongue down until her nose brushed her hand, then back up, mimicking the movement of _his_ hand as close as possible. A muffled hum of approval melted at the back of her throat.

Jesse's head rolled, looking over at Ben. The sight sent a surge of need through him, even though he felt completely spent. "Yeah. Stroke that gorgeous cock," he murmured.

"Fuck, you're both teases," Ben rasped out, a crinkle of a laugh around his eyes as his head tipped back and he made a helpless little noise. Then the idea exploded in his head. "You want me off so bad, why don't you both get over here and get me off, eh?"

Claire gave Jesse's cock a light squeeze before pulling back and tilting her head teasingly at Ben. "I thought you wanted to watch," she cooed back at him.

"I did," Ben babbled. "I do. I just- you've both had a go, the show's over, now you're just-" he squirmed in the chair, his hips bucking as he circled his hand all the way down to the base and squeezed. He licked his lips, trying to cut off his racing thoughts. "If you won't, I'll just-"

"You don't take teasing well," Claire cut him off with a crooked, but heated grin. She looked down the length of Jesse's body, laying like he'd just finished a marathon. Another satisfied glimmer flashed in her eyes as she dipped her head and nipped at his hip, then rubbed the spot with her thumb as she climbed over him, heading toward Ben. "_Your turn_ to watch."

Ben had entertained the idea of the two of them taking turns sucking his cock, but Claire's unspoken hint that she had every intention of riding him was enough to silence any sort of argument before it made it to his lips. His cock twitched with a sudden rush of need. Jesse gave a disappointed huff, but didn't seem to mind all that much as he rolled over for a better view.

Once off the edge of the bed, Claire stood in front of Ben and his chair, then turned around as if she were about to sit in his lap-which was actually her intention. She put a leg on the outside of each of his knees and grabbed for his hands behind her, placing them on her hips and looking back over her shoulder. "S'your show now, baby."

Ben felt a laugh bubble out of him and he leaned in to kiss her shoulder, one hand drifting away from her hip to find his cock and guide it to her.

"Fuck, I love you," he said, a grin in his voice as he looked past her and over her shoulder at Jesse. "Both of you." Then, with his hand back on her hip again, he thrust into her all the way to the hilt. Claire pulled a jagged breath in through open lips, her hands traveling down the line of her waist and hips to her open thighs.

"Fuck," Jesse breathed, his hand wrapping around his cock. "Take her, Ben."

Ben moaned at the encouragement, bringing her hips down for a harder snap until he felt her fingertips glance off his cock. Moving his left hand away from her hip he slid it inward over the smooth span of her pelvis, gently nudging her hand away as he found her clit and circled it with the pads of his fingers. She gasped and bucked a little harder against his chest in response. The crown of her head lay on the shelf of his shoulder, jarred by the way he moved her, and the way she moved against him.

"God, _yes_-!" she whined, snaking her hands up her trembling torso to catch her own breasts.

Jesse's hand squeezed, wishing he was harder, that he could come with her, because she was amazing. "Make her come, Ben. She wants it so bad, she _needs_ it."

Ben's fingers twisted harder as he thrust up into her, the hand on her hip tilting her back just enough so that he entered her at just the right angle. His teeth nipped at the juncture of her shoulder as he moaned. Claire's eyes screwed shut as the flood of feverish heat made her thighs tremble and her breath shallow. After holding back so long, just that little bit of added pressure pushed her beyond the point of return. Little crescendos of her voice rode on her breaths.

"_Tell me when..._" She rolled each pert nipple between her thumb and the side of her hand, and gasped desperately close to Ben's ear. He was already so close, but her words sent him into the sprint, his hand leaving her clit to pull her hips down against his as he rolled his hips into hers, moving without thrusting, the sensation just enough that he felt himself start to go over.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, _yeah, oh god, Claire-!_" he cried, thrusting up into her so fast it nearly hurt as the first wave crashed into him and stole his voice. She was right behind him, toes curling in the carpet and moaning through a shallow breath.

Jesse watched with awe, need, and not a little bit of envy. His eyes traveled every line of them, taking in the clench and tension of their bodies as they came, then just as eagerly how everything eased away from them. His hand still worked, though it was a bit half-hearted. They were already done, so there wasn't much point. He sagged back, his eyes closing.

Ben tilted Claire's neck back, claiming her mouth and kissing her deeply. He could still taste the traces of her and Jesse, deep and salty-sweet, and the other hand that had been resting on her hip ran up the length of her body, caressing her bare stomach, her torso, her breast, settling in the valley. He could feel her racing heartbeat and smiled against her mouth. But when he looked out the side of his eye to Jesse, he found the other man half hard. Ben broke the kiss, a grin in his voice.

"Y'know," he murmured, just loud enough to be heard. "I was sorta hopin' you and Jesse would suck my cock. This was just as nice, though. But maybe," he kissed Claire again lightly, his voice lifting with a hint of amusement. "Maybe we can flip it, and take turns on him instead? Whatcha think, milove?" Claire chuckled faintly through the haze of her labored breaths. Everything tingled, throbbing with spent heat enough to make her joints feel like jello, but the idea put another shot of life in them.

His cock giving a throb, Jesse went a couple more strokes as he rolled out on his back and closed his eyes. Then he set his hands behind his head, relaxed as a sunbather, his lap bare and inviting. Though he couldn't help shooting a quick look at them from under his eyelashes.

Ben helped ease Claire carefully off of him and onto the floor, though he chuckled at Jesse's sudden mood shift.

"How're the three of us gonna squeeze on that bed, ya jerk?" Ben pointed out, a small laugh twisted into the words.

"That's for you to figure out," Jesse said, smug as a cat. "I'm just waiting to get my cock sucked."

"Oh is _that_ what you're waiting for?" Claire's smirk could cut glass, but it was purely playful. She sensed a good amount of challenge in that smugness, and attached to it automatically.

Ben knew what had to be done. Circling around to the end of the bed, he caught Jesse by the ankles and dragged him down until his feet touched the floor, grinning all the while. It wouldn't be the best way to go, but he figured at least one of them could curl up on the bed while the other knelt.

"G'head and get comfortable, Claire," he said gently, settling on his knees and running his palms up Jesse's inner thighs.

Jesse took the move in stride, not even sitting up or opening his eyes, though it sent a thrill up his spine and he couldn't help grinning wider. "That's it, Ben," he cajoled. "I know how eager you are to suck it."

Claire set her knees on the edge of the bed, one at a time, until she was settled in behind his head. Her grin was sent down to Ben, then to Jesse's unsuspecting face. Then, in one quick movement, she pinned his arms down with her knees and shot tickling fingers to his lower ribs. Ben snickered, holding down Jesse's thighs out of self-preservation, so he wouldn't get kneed in the nose. Jesse's eyes snapped open and his body jerked with a laugh, but he was utterly pinned. His hips rolled in desperation, but Claire was unrelenting.

"Fuck! Claire!" he gasped between laughs. "Let go! S'no fair! Two against one!"

Once he was sure Jesse wouldn't bean him, Ben leaned in close and took him into his mouth. Keeping his hands firmly planted on Jesse's legs, he bobbed low and deep. At the same time, Claire lightened her assault, though it didn't let up completely. She did, however, swallow any sound Jesse made by pressing her lips over his from her upside down angle.

Jesse moaned into her mouth, even as his stomach spasmed at her touch. His mind was even more focused a little lower, to the hot wet heat enveloping him. His hips tried to cant towards it, though he'd occasionally jerk away thanks to Claire's steady assault.

Ben pulled up after a moment, looking up the length of Jesse's body to where Claire had him pinned, and smirked.

"C'mon, he's learned his lesson, c'mere 'n help me," Ben encouraged, tracing his tongue along the underside of Jesse's cock. Claire nipped Jesse's top lip before she pulled away, just because she could; the smugness she'd reacted to effectively transferred from him to her. She released his arms and curled up on her side, next to him, her hair tickling the inside of Jesse's thigh as she settled in, shooting Ben a piece of that smug look as well.

"Saucy minx," he murmured, pitching his voice low as he grinned at her and kissed her, searingly but short.

Still catching his breath, Jesse pushed up on his elbows and added, "Cruel woman." He didn't seem too bothered by it, though, his eyes already on the two of them, shining with an expectant spark.

"Is that the same thing?" she teasingly asked them both, the tip of one finger running up the length of Ben's spine, and pressing a hot, wet kiss high on the inside of Jesse's thigh, then another on the base of his cock. Ben mimicked her, but placed just a bit higher, his eyes on hers and his breath warm on Jesse's cock as he spoke:

"Nah, I like it when you're saucy."

"Right. Me, too," Jesse said, not entirely clear on what he was agreeing to, with his heart pounding in his ears. Seeing and feeling the two of them like that pretty much wiped everything out of his mind except need. Claire responded with a hum as she wrapped her lips around the skin below his cock, sucking in gently and kneading his thigh as Ben focused on the head, dragging his tongue along the crests and ridges.

Jesse's head fell back, giving a gasp, but it wasn't nearly fucking enough. "C'mon, stop teasing it," he said, his hands twisting in the covers. "Take me already!"

"Always with the now, now, now," Ben tutted, connecting eyes with Claire again and smiling some. "So impatient." he circled his lips around the head of Jesse's cock and dipped down, careful not to bump into Claire, then pulled back to give her a turn, which she took by pressing a palm down on Jesse's abdomen as she buried him deep in her throat.

Giving a high gasp, Jesse thrust towards her. "Fuck, that's it. That's my girl."

Ben ducked just a bit lower, trailing his tongue along Jesse's sack, his hand coming up to circle his fingers beneath Claire's lips. She bobbed rhythmically, dragging her tongue under and around the tip, her free hand trailing Ben's shoulder to the back of his neck on the sheer need to touch him and feel him move. Ben hummed in response, lovely little chills racing through him as he followed the path of her mouth with his hand, his free one still kneading Jesse's thigh.

Jesse watched them, unblinking, his breaths coming sharper and sharper. They worked in perfect tandem, every move catered towards him. He couldn't hold back a shallow thrust. "Fuck, I love teamwork."

In spite of himself, Ben laughed. "Speaking of teamwork, s'my turn."

After a twitch of very carefully suppressed laughter, Claire pulled back and ran a fingertip under a grinning lip. "Jus'take over," she purred, notching a brow at Ben, her palm sliding up Jesse's chest to push him back down to the mattress. Her lips closed on his nipple, tongue dragging slowly.

Ben tisked at her, finding one of her hands before she got too far away and lacing their fingers together.

"You obviously don't know how much this is a huge kink for any guy," Ben pointed out, punctuating the words with long licks against Jesse's length. "Having two mouths working you over? Top five playlist of what any guy wants. But if you'd rather just leave me to it, I'll shut up." He smirked at the end of his words, just for the sake of clearing up that he wasn't at all bothered with the delegated task.

Jesse looked between them, biting his lip. "I...I'm happy either way, really." Claire took what Jesse said and shot a satisfied look down at Ben, her brows bouncing.

"So go on," she teased, caressing Jesse's chest with a gentle hand with a trace of nails. Ben gave a mock put-upon sigh, pulling his hand free from Claire's to run up the insides of Jesse's thighs again before lowing his head once more.

Lying back, Jesse closed his eyes, hips shifting appreciatively. "You're so fucking good at it, mate. Can't blame me too much, eh?" Claire planted a line of slow kisses along his clavicle, the hollow of his throat, and over his pulse point.

Sucking in a breath, Jesse turned his head to the side, giving her better access. "Mm. Love your mouth. Both your mouths."

Ben pulled back and scraped his teeth faintly over the crown of Jesse's cock before laving it with his tongue, moving one hand away from his thigh to pump his cock.

"How's it feel, Jess?"

"So good. _So_ good, all of it," he moaned. Ben chuckled, running his tongue down the length of his cock before taking him in all the way to where his hand was curled around the base. Claire ran her hand up his shoulder and the other side of his face to angle it toward her, where she kissed him, slow and deep. With a murmur of appreciation, Jesse slid his hand up into her hair. His other hand ran down her back, playing at the top of her ass before coming up and around to her breast.

Ben pulled back again, sliding two fingers of his free hand into his mouth and slicking them up thoroughly as he looked up at the two of them. He continued to jerk Jesse off, matching the pace of his canting hips. Pulling his fingers free, he rolled his tongue over the head of Jesse's cock as his fingers drifted lower, stroking his hole. With a sharp gasp into Claire's mouth, Jesse lifted one leg then the other, his knees hooking over Ben's shoulders to give him better access.

Ben chuckled once more against his mouthful, pulling back and speaking against the length of Jesse's cock, "Opening up like a needy little slut. Y'want it, don't you?" He slowly slid one finger into him, giving it a twist as he withdrew and dove back down on his cock again.

Giving a low whimper, Jesse pulled back from Claire, panting for breath. "Yes, always. Don't you know me by now?" he teased.

Ben looked up the length of his body, laughter in his eyes as he continued to work him over. With every sound Jesse made Ben found himself becoming more and more wound up, and after a few moments he pressed in a second finger, scissor-twisting and hooking upward into him.

Jesse bucked with a hard gasp, his hand twisting in Claire's hair, sinking her nails in his side in turn. She chuckled tightly, watching him with a lurid fascination and whispering against his jaw.

"_That's it, Baby._ Just give in..."

Meeting her eyes, he pulled her back down into a kiss, tongue thrusting eagerly into her mouth. She groaned her heated approval, moving her hand to his face, then through his hair, gripping it frantically.

Ben pulled back from where he'd been working, both hands moving in syncopated rhythm. His lips curved in a sly smile.

"Y'wanna ride him again, Claire?" he purred. Ben's voice reached her again, and did things to her insides as velvet did to her skin. She pulled back from Jesse's mouth, a little breathless, watching his eyes for a moment of hazy lust before the look turned back to Ben.

"Only if you're behind me," she breathed. Heat expanded through every part of him and Ben's breath caught. He'd had every intention of taking Jesse while Claire rode him, but Claire had stolen the thought out of his head and made it hers. And, like always, he would never deny Claire what she wanted.

"Jess, where's the lube?" he breathed, his hands still moving on the other man.

Breathing hard, one hand twisted in the covers, Jesse said, "My bag, inside pocket." Then he snaked his hand over Claire, pulling her on top of him as he drove into her mouth again. Ben reluctantly pulled away, placing one last wet kiss to the crown of Jesse's cock before moving over to where his bag was resting next to his and Claire's. He found the little tube in moments, quickly resuming his position at the end of the bed.

"You wanna work her open, or should I?" Ben asked, his voice husky.

Pulling back, Jesse nipped at her lower lip. "You go ahead. I got this end."

Ben laughed lightly, ducking his head down to nip lightly along the side of Jesse's cock. "God, I'm stuck with all the work." But he didn't care. Rather than risk not paying the proper amount of attention to Claire's reactions, he gave up trying to work them both, one hand smoothing down the length of Claire's back. "Come down a bit more, babe, I can't reach that far."

Abandoning her retaliatory bite to Jesse's jaw, Claire half-grinned down at him, shifting her weight to her hands. Curling her fingers into the sheets, she pushed with a deep bow in her spine, sliding both knees down the length of Jesse's sides to his hips; haunches raised, and slow, hot kisses trailing down Jesse's chest. Running his hands through her hair, Jesse's grin verged on smug again.

In spite of everything, Ben felt nervousness licking its way through his brain. He didn't want to hurt her; it scared the hell out of him. Granted, he knew Claire's threshold was high, and it wasn't like they hadn't been stabbed, shot, bitten, and broken between the three of them, but that didn't change how he felt. He bit back the urge to ask her to turn, so that he could kiss her preemptively, and instead popped open the lubricant and carefully coated his fingers. Putting the tube down on the bed, he continued to stroke her back with his free hand as he slowly pressed one finger into her.

Just the ghost of sensation left in the wake of his fingers was enough to tighten her breath, and it shuddered across Jesse's skin when Ben pushed forward. Claire closed her eyes and felt herself start to melt.

"Thatta girl," Jesse murmured, stroking her back. Watching her face, knowing exactly what Ben was doing, and how good it felt, sent a wave of heat through him. He wanted Claire on him, riding him, but bit it back, settling on observing for now.

Ben bit his lip as he moved, watching her reactions intensely and waiting until she started to respond before he started with another, bending down to press a kiss just above the dimple of her ass. The fact that she barely winced surprised him a little.

"You dirty girl," he chuckled. "You've done this before."

"Maybe," she rasped, a little bit of her voice made the whisper deep and needy. Her lips parted for breath and a low moan, as she pushed back slowly toward him.

"Doesn't surprise me," Jesse said, flicking a finger over her nipple. "Dirty girl likes it rough."

Ben leaned over her as he scissored his fingers in deep, speaking into her ear and smiling at Jesse.

"You're gonna love it so much, Claire," he murmured. "Jesse and I've been waitin' for the go-ahead from you for weeks. I'm just jealous I don't get to watch your face as you fall apart."

Claire tucked her head back and sucked in a breath, then let it out in a gritty sound of pleasure, shaped into the words: "_Oh, you'll feel it_..." Already, her thighs trembled just beneath the skin, stirred by the same heat that slowly coiled low in her belly.

"Fuck, you're hot," Jesse breathed, his hips shifting up towards her. Forget waiting. "C'mon, Claire, I want you to take me."

"You ready for us, baby?" Ben said into her ear, nipping on the shell. She nodded and moaned a heady, "_Yes,_" leaning back into Ben and turning her hips down to align with Jesse.

Jesse groaned, curling his toes to keep from thrusting as he felt the wet heat of her, so close. "Fuck me, Claire, c'mon." The grin she sent down at him reflected his earlier smugness, but with the sharp flare of what Ben was doing to her as well. Her grip in the sheets tightened and her thighs flexed. As soon as Ben pulled his fingers free of her, she sank down on Jesse. Claire held her breath, bearing down on both of them as her knees slid another smooth few inches apart, pulling a relieved groan from Jesse.

Ben wetted his lips at the sight; being so close and seeing every glorious inch of Jesse's cock disappearing into her and hearing them both respond sent shivers of anticipation through him. Picking up the tube of lubricant once again, he applied some liberally to his palm, pumping his cock in time with Jesse's first thrust and moaning openly.

His hands going to her hips on autopilot, Jesse thrust again. "Just can't get enough of me, eh, Claire?" he said, though the breathiness of his voice held back some of the haughtiness. Ben laughed lightly behind them, inching close and sliding one hand up to rest between Claire's shoulder blades.

"Don't even start, you smug bastard," Ben retorted. He lead himself in, biting his lower lip as a reminder to keep from holding his breath as he carefully eased past the first ring of dense muscle. His eyes screwed shut as the first rush of bliss hit him. Claire's held breath released in staggered bits, her lips gaped, brushing Jesse's chin. She held still, concentrating every fiber and every thought on the near over-whelming sensation-of the slow slide and fullness that threatened to steal her breath.

His thrusts going shallow but steady, Jesse kissed across her cheek and down her jaw, his hands rubbing lightly along her back. "That's a girl. So sexy. Feels so good," he said, his tone quiet, almost soothing.

Ben focused on his breathing, trying not to hyperventilate as he slowly pressed in. Midway through he felt it, the neighboring thrust of Jesse's cock, and the sensation alone nearly undid him. His hands covered Jesse's on Claire's hips, gripping tightly as he gasped, trying not to thrust straight in to the hilt.

"Oh _fuck,_ I can feel you," he whimpered. "Jesus _Christ_, it's-"

Claire felt her every muscle flutter, vibrating a hard and constant throb through her whole body, and a large part of it was anticipation warring with an all encompassing desire. Her eyes were still shut as one hand white-knuckled in the sheet, supporting a lot of her weight as the other reached back behind her thigh to grip Ben's hip, and pulled him into her, timed with a sharp, ruddy cry of need in Jesse's chest.

Ben followed her cue, his hands moving from her hips to her shoulders as he thrust in deep. All the air exploded out of his lungs with a low, helpless noise. If it were possible, somehow this time it was a hundred times better. His hands moved once again, this time around her front to hold her at the shoulders as he joined in timing his thrusts with Jesse's.

The pleasure surging through him, Jesse's eyes were rapt on the two of them, every contort of their faces. His own thrusts quickened, Claire still so tight and hot and - fuck yes - he could feel Ben right there. His head tilted back, eyes closing, trying to think of anything else to keep him there, but the feel of them was too much.

"_Fuck_! I can't- _yes_! I'm-I'm gonna-"

"Don't you fucking dare," Ben gasped, one hand pulling away from Claire's shoulder to go back to Jesse's hand on her hip again. He gripped it tightly. "You hold still and wait. It's gonna be all of us this time. If I hafta pull her off'a you, I will."

Jesse's cry strangled right in his throat, forcing his hips still. His toes dug deep into the carpet and he took long, deep breaths, but he managed to hold back. "Fuck, the things I do for you, mate."

Claire opened her eyes, though they were hooded and glassy-sharp, each breath contained a gritty or hot bit of her voice. Seeing Jesse tense and straining twisted something deep and primal inside her, and she clenched tight in another moan. Her palm flattened on his chest, tickled by her hair as it twitched with the way she was being moved, scraped just right from within. She was beyond the capability for words, the only tangible thought in her head stuck on a frantic loop, screaming _yes, yes, YES_.

Ben slid his hand away from Jesse's, sliding it between his and Claire's bodies as he sought out her clit. He rubbed it in tight, frantic circles, turning to speak directly in her ear as he rocked his hips in fractured thrusts against her.

"How's it feel, having two hard cocks buried inside you, Claire?" he growled, knowing she was riding the wave, unable to come out of the blissful, euporhic high. "Feels good, doesn't it? Fucking into you, filling you up... you're so fucking perfect, so tight, so wet, not even Jess can hold out." Claire's eyes screwed shut again, Ben's words like molten gold in her veins, adding an undeniable heat to the tension building at the base of her spine and between her legs. "We're waiting on you, baby. You gonna come for us, hmm?" Her breathing steadily climbed, shallowing and pitched by helpless whimpers. Ben lead her on, staying in deep and rocking them forward as one against Jesse's cock. "Clench tight like a little fucking vice and drag us with you? We wanna feel you come, baby, c'mon, don't hold back-"

In the next instant, when Claire finally fell apart, she bowed her back to the sound of her sudden loud and desperate cry after cry. Galaxies of pleasure exploded behind her tightly clenched eyes as she gripped at Jesse's chest and slapped her hand over Ben's on her hip. She didn't even feel the bite of her own nails in the meat of her hip, riding the tsunami in her own body. Ben pulled his hand away from her clit, moving it to cover her hips and holding her steady as he fucked into her, hard and fast. His head tipping back as the combined force of her clenching hole and the deep press of Jesse's cock through her walls hit him, shoving him over the edge with a guttural shout. Jesse matched it as the anxious need in him erupted with the first clench. His hands closed over Ben's, digging hard as he thrust erratically up into Claire, until the wave settled into a warm contentment.

Claire all but collapsed, seeing splashes of color behind her still closed eyelids, breathing hard and spent with her cheek on Jesse's chest. After the strength of those last body shocks, every muscle felt like cooked pasta. She was even dizzy, and wondered if the room would start to spin if she tried to open her eyes. Ben pulled free, his legs a little shaky as he crouched, then stretched out on the floor next to the bed.

"Goddamn..." he exhaled, throwing an arm over his eyes.

Wrapping one arm around Claire and breathing a deep breath, Jesse dangled the other other the side of the bed, reaching blindly for Ben. There was a small laugh from the floor as he caught it and threaded their fingers together.

"I'm gonna...sleep for...a few days." Claire's weak whisper was almost lost in her breath. She hadn't moved, and likely wouldn't until someone did the moving for her. She was perfectly fine with falling asleep where she was.

"Mm, sounds good," Jesse murmured, not bothering to move either. His feet on the floor wasn't the ideal position, but right then, he could sleep just about any place.

Ben took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, waiting until his heartbeat had finally slowed before giving Jesse's hand a squeeze and letting it go. There was still work on the car to be done, and other chores to do. Plus, Izzy would wonder where the three of them were, and he still wasn't sure he wanted to have that talk with her just yet. Getting to his knees and pushing up to his full height, Ben paused long enough to pet Claire's hair and brush a kiss to Jesse's forehead before he started putting his clothes back on.


	33. Episode 17: Dying to Know

He could hear sobbing, somewhere in the house. The thing was, Ben knew that it wasn't real, because they'd moved out of that house when he turned 13.

The hallway was dark and all the familiar sounds and smells assaulted him, but when he looked down at himself he was the same as he remembered currently being: tall, wearing street clothes, his hair swaying faintly against his neck and into his eyes as he cautiously followed the sound. It was masculine, that much he knew for certain.

It was also achingly familiar.

As he came closer to the door, he could hear a woman's voice murmuring. His mother's voice. Ben's feet moved with more confidence, his hand pushing the door open. There she was, sitting in the bed, holding a man against her. His hands clutched at her back as he buried his face in her neck. His mother rocked the man gently, not too unlike Ben remembered her rocking _him_as a child after he'd woken from a bad dream.

"I'm here," she murmured. "I'm here, Dean."

"_Sammy..._" came the croaked response. It was deep and broken, full of unbearable pain. "He's-"

"I know."

Ben watched the scene with a horrible sinking sensation in his stomach. He _remembered_this. It had been the first night, after-

His mother's eyes rose and met his, killing the thought in its tracks, her expression soft but stern.

**_Go back to bed,_** she mouthed at him. Instinctively he pulled back, but his chest clenched and he took a breath to speak. Before he had a chance to get the words out, everything faded away.

* * *

><p>Jesse stormed through the beach house. It was small; a kitchen and living room on the first floor, an open bedroom and balcony on the second, the furniture sparse and clean. There was very little room to hide.<p>

"Where are you?" he snarled, slamming the balcony railing. "You fucking come here right now, you piece of demon shit!"

But there was no one around. Upon a closer inspection, there was a thin film of dust on the flat surfaces. Clearly the house hadn't been occupied in a very long time. Five more minutes passed before there was a voice just behind him.

"Did you find the relic?"

Spinning, Jesse swung at the demon's head, which whipped back hard with the force of the blow. He brought his face forward slowly, bringing a hand up to his mouth and pulling his fingers away with blood. Then he glowered at Jesse in rage, his eyes suddenly rolling back and staying there.

"Explain yourself. _Now._"

Normally the white eyes would be unnerving, but Jesse was too angry for anything else. "What did you do to Ben?"

The demon blinked at him, his eyes returning to normal. A contemptuous bark of a laugh escaped him. "I've done nothing to no one. Like I told you before: I've been _working._ Now _where is the relic?_"

Jesse's expression hardened. "Somewhere safe. You're not getting it until you undo what you did to Ben."

The demon's eyes narrowed and he took a step closer, meeting Jesse's furious gaze. "Rest assured, neither I nor my people have been anywhere near your pet hunters. Don't you think that if I wanted to hurt them, I would have done so by now?"

Grabbing the demon by the shirt, Jesse shoved him against the wall, holding fast. "Ben just _touched_your fucking amulet and he collapsed! Tell me what it does and how to undo it!" Out of habit, power poured from his voice.

Of all the thing he expected, genuine surprise on the demon's face was not one of them.

"It isn't supposed to do that," he said. "As far as I'm aware, the only thing it's capable of doing is alerting the wearer that God is near. You have my word; if I knew about it, I would have given you some sort of warning."

It was a dangerous thing, believing a demon, but Jesse did. He didn't want to, but he did. Shoving away, he swiped at his eyes.

"How can I get him back? How can I make him better?"

The demon was silent, hands moving into his pockets as he studied Jesse's face.

"I can only heal a host, son," the demon told him. "And only so long as I reside there; the body would naturally go back to the state it was left in. Even then, your boy has a lock on him. My powers, in that regard, are limited unless another deal is made."

Jesse's eyes narrowed, though his first impulse was to say yes. "No. Not yet. And you're not getting your amulet either. Not until I find out what it did."

Again the demon was silent. His jaw worked and he took a breath, then let it out.

"Do whatever you must."

In the span of an eye blink, he was gone again. Jesse's face immediately crumpled. He hung his head, breathing deep and trying to regain control. He had to get back and call Izzy and see Ben. His stomach twisted, but he shoved it down and disappeared.

* * *

><p>Claire stared at the ghost of herself in the reflection of a thick piece of glass, the thing that separated her from the figure laying prone and still in the hospital bed in the room on the other side. Machines beeped, a Labcoat talked to another Labcoat at the foot of Ben's bed, discussing things she'd already heard about ten times at that point.<p>

Words like _seizure_ and _unknown variables_floated around in the space between her eyes, which were dry. Red, and stinging-but dry. If she let them run, they'd erode what forced stability she had left, and Claire simply couldn't risk crumbling.

Another reflection walked up to join hers but Jesse didn't say anything. He couldn't. He could only stare at Ben, an alien panic streaming through him. His breath grew faster, more shallow, and more than anything he wanted to run away from there. Instead, he gingerly touched Claire's hand. She responded by naturally curling her fingers into his and pulling him close, but her eyes didn't stray from the scene in the room through the window.

"He had a seizure," she said somberly, swallowing the brick in her throat. "They don't know why."

Jesse's whole body tensed. He couldn't stand to look anymore, turning towards her instead. "You still have the amulet?" he asked quietly. Claire's brows twitched downward toward her nose, an inculcated sign of confusion that turned back toward him.

"_Amulet_?" That was an odd term to throw out suddenly.

A voice floated toward them from down the hallway:

"You better get the hell outta my way if you know what's good for you! So help me God, I'll put you in one'a these beds yourself!"

Jesse looked up sharply to see Izzy looking ready to punch some poor nurse in the face. He opened his mouth to automatically tell them to let her pass, but hesitated. "Maybe you should help her?"

The look on Claire's face was clearly not letting go of the subject they'd barely scraped before Izzy posed a security threat-that situation was much more pressing. She nodded and pulled in a deep breath, letting go of Jesse's hand to intervene.

"She's with me and room 348," she told the frazzled orderly, easily winding herself between the two, ready to take Izzy's arm with her own before there could be any formal protesting. The orderly balked, giving a weak smile and pulling aside.

"Sorry, I just hadn't seen her name on the registrar and- I'm sorry."

Without another word the orderly rushed off to the lobby. Izzy relaxed for the briefest moment, then met Claire's expression with worry and concern. Jesse had given her the basics, but so much was left unexplained.

"What'd the doctors have to say?"

Claire's jaw set again, and her throat felt dry, but she kept her eyes forward. She could feel Izzy's look burning into her own expression. "Grand Mal seizure, and he hasn't come out yet. They're all clueless."

Izzy made the cross over her chest, her eyes lifting heavenward before she hugged Claire, who returned the gesture, albeit copiously distracted. It was brief, and when she pulled back her eyes were bright with unshorn tears. She looked sideways at Jesse.

"Can I sit with him?"

Jesse shrugged, his expression stiff. "I think so."

"When _they_leave," Claire added quietly, her voice once again going a bit monotone. Her head nodded toward the doctors still in the room. Izzy let her hands drop away from Claire's shoulders, pulling back and moving to look through the plated glass. She stood there silently before a shudder worked its way through her body. Then her head bowed and her eyes fell closed, lips moving soundlessly with her hands clasped over her heart.

The look Jesse gave her was dark, and he turned away, running his hands through his hair. "I need...something. You two want coffee?" he said, his voice rough. Izzy shook her head, but otherwise didn't answer him. Claire had caught that look, but didn't react to it outwardly. She only hesitated, trying to figure out which path to take.

In the end, she looked down at Izzy, touching her shoulder lightly as she spoke. "Keep an eye on him? We won't be long."

Izzy's head rose and she looked up at Claire. Her face was already tear-streaked. "Of course. Take your time. I'll come get you the moment they come out."

An irritation he immediately felt guilty for swept over Jesse. He waited until Claire was next to him before walking, though really, he had no idea where he was supposed to go for that stuff. A hall away, he said, "You have it, right?"

Claire looked at him sideways, but only for a moment, before her eyes moved ahead of them again. The sinking feeling in her stomach was only getting worse, and it was starting to tighten her shoulders.

"Yes, I have it," she answered quietly. "I've already sent a picture of it to Lucas and set him on it."

He looked at her sharply. "You touched it?"

"Not directly, no," she hushed back, and returned the look she gave him by reflex. "The sooner we know what it is, the sooner we can fix it."

"Exactly. Give it to me." He held out a hand. Stopping on the side of the hallway, Claire looked at his hand, then quickly up at his face.

"What's going on." It was more a gentle prod for information than a question. Regardless of her concerns, her hand dug in her back pocket to pull out the pendant she'd stuffed in a stolen latex glove after snapping a quick picture.

Jesse scowled. "I want to find out what that thing did. I also want to keep you safe. It didn't do anything to me when I touched it." Claire didn't look _entirely_convinced. There were alarms going off stemming from beyond this morning and this pendent, and she didn't like what it was doing to his eyes.

Still, she trusted him. Without fully hiding the apprehension in her eyes, she set the thing in his hand, and they slowly started walking again. Jesse slid it into his pocket, though he hadn't missed the look. He hadn't missed a lot of the looks Claire had been giving him lately.

"If you want to say something, say it."

Claire rolled her lips, but she couldn't suppress the twist in her stomach, or the sudden sharper sting behind her eyes.

"I'm worried about you," she said finally.

There was a long silence as Jesse kept walking, though his jaw tightened. "Worry about Ben. He's the one who needs it."

"I'm worried about _both_of you," she shot back, almost indignantly. "And simply telling me not to isn't going to change anything."

"Anything in particular or just worrying about me in general?" he said, equally stiff.

Claire felt her throat tighten, adding to the tension in her shoulders. She swallowed around it and tried to think on whatever words would come out of her mouth. Unfortunately, none of the options sounded very good.

In the end, she was silent for a few more steps, watching the doors go by them until she spotted one with an Exit Stairs sign above it. Without a word, she leaned against it and directed Jesse into the stairwell with her. After the door shut, she pinned him with her eyes and an uneven breath that was _supposed_to make her feel better. It didn't.

"_Please_ tell me what is going on with you," she half pleaded, half demanded. "And don't tell me it's nothing, or it's _personal_, because those aren't answers."

Jesse met her eyes for a long moment before looking to the floor. The anger he'd been holding to like a raft dissolved, the pit of his stomach sinking. "It...it won't make you feel better."

Despite the ominous promise in his words, the tone sparked some breed of hope in her eyes. Without thinking, she grabbed both his hands and squeezed, running her thumbs along the thicker veined backs of his own. "Hey..." she started, dipping her head to meet his eyes. "It may not make me feel better, but I promise it won't make me run away. I'm on your side here."

The words touched the very heart of his fear, and though it didn't make it better, it did make saying it easier. "I didn't save those kids in Chackbay," he said, swallowing, his eyes wide on her. "I killed them."

Claire's eyes switched back and forth between his, squinting slightly in her obvious confusion, which was the only thing holding the sick feeling in her chest at bay. "I don't understand..." she said very quietly-nervous, but still urging him on.

He tried to swallow again but his mouth was dry. "The...the piper was controlling them, connected to them somehow. And when I shot him, the kids went down. Dead." He leaned back against the door, his legs unsteady. "I wasn't thinking. You always told me to think things through, but I just shot him and killed them all."

That sick feeling was getting stronger. Claire watched him with an unwavering intensity, remembering how they helped six tired, but very much _alive_children back to their homes after the incident. Whatever had to have happened between when Jesse shot their kidnapper dead and when they all met up was still unsaid, but the possibilities were making her very weak in the legs.

She took a deep breath and chewed on her bottom lip. "Keep going, hon..." Her whisper was tight. She hadn't wanted to say it.

He rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, unable to look at her. "I called the demon."

Claire felt all the air suddenly disappear from her lungs, and the color drained from her face. She soundlessly clapped her palm over her own mouth, which rubbed hard at her face then dropped, along with her gaze. She couldn't breathe, not for a second or two. When the ability finally came back, it was shaky and teetered on the edge of functional at all.

"...Jess, did you make a deal?" she finally uttered, looking at him with now-watery eyes.

"I couldn't just let those kids stay dead." His voice hitched. "I had to save them, Claire." Claire couldn't keep the water in her eyes from falling, especially when she closed them at the desperate, honest sound of his voice.

"I know you did," she offered in a whisper, buried in his shoulder. It was all she could do to keep from letting the possibilities shake her to pieces.

"But it wasn't anything bad!" His eyes sought hers as he grabbed her hand. "I have to come when he calls. That's it. I don't have to do anything, just hear whatever he says." She squeezed his hand hard and drew him in for a tighter hug: one that belied the soft quiver deep beneath her skin, thanks to a terror that hadn't made it to the surface yet.

"Jess-" She didn't know how to continue without tripping all over her words, only to fall into what she was really thinking about thanks to all this: the end result, which she'd already been shown. "Demons don't just offer up lives to be _heard out_. Especially not six lives... especially not _that demon_."

Jesse pulled back, cupping her face to look her straight in the eye. "I swear, Claire. The deal was he brings back the kids, I come when he calls. And he doesn't go after you and Ben when I'm with him. That's what we agreed to." But the demon was already pushing the boundaries of that, wasn't he? Jesse's mouth tightened; he'd have to remind the demon that he wasn't going to be pushed around.

She looked at him for a moment of wavering silence, then rolled her lips. "I believe you, Jesse... It's _him_ I don't-" she stopped herself, trying to breathe. She fixed her rhythm with a hard sigh. "They are _experts_at finding the fine print. He's got you hooked-now he's gonna devote everything into reeling you in."

"It doesn't matter, because I won't let him," Jesse said, heat behind his words. "I won't do anything I don't want to, and he knows that, too."

"Baby, he will _make_you want to do it. He's already trying, I can tell... by letting you think you've got him pinned." Her own voice was tightening. Claire didn't even bother to wipe the streaks of water falling down her cheeks. "How many times has he called you?"

Jesse stepped away from her, his expression strained with hurt. "Just once. And what exactly can you tell? You see me becoming more evil, is that it?"

Claire's expression mirrored the sudden pain in his. "_No!_ I mean by how he's got you convinced that you're the one on top of _his_arrangement. What did he say to you, this one time he's called?"

"He wanted me to get something for him," he snapped, though his face was turning red. The amulet felt heavy in his pocket. "But I'm not giving it to him, so it's fine."

His tone rang through her like a tuning fork. Claire continued to watch him from her heavy lean on the stair rail, her brows heavily furrowed, but her voice as tempered as she could keep it. "Jesse, remember that I only want to help you." _Don't you see the slope you're sliding on..._

Then, with a wide look in her eyes, the thought struck her. "That necklace-that's what he wanted?"

Jesse froze before nodding. "But he said he didn't know it would hurt Ben," he said quickly. "He doesn't know how to fix it."

Claire didn't know how to react to that, except for another flip in her stomach. She looked down at the floor, trying to think.

"Well, what does he want it for? What does it do?"

"I don't know. It can help him find God or something, but I don't know why, I didn't really care because I wasn't going to give it to him." Not entirely true at the time, but definitely not now.

_Wonderful_. Claire felt like the floor was slowly crumbling beneath her. An obviously very powerful demon was _this close_ to something that could 'find God', and Jesse was-_Jesus, help me._

"My guess is he'll do anything, to _anyone_to get it, Jess... We gotta get rid of it. Does he know you have it?"

"...Yes. But we have to find out what it did to Ben first. I told him that, that he wasn't getting it until Ben was better. And then I'll throw it in the ocean or something."

Claire's first thought was _and then what_, but she bit it back. They had no clue as to a time window, and Izzy was still out there. She took a deep breath and wiped her face with the back of her sleeve.

"We'll-we'll work on it," she said hopefully, but still terribly worried. She stepped up on her toes to kiss the side of his mouth and give his hand a quick, distracted squeeze. "Ben needs us right now..."

Swallowing, Jesse nodded. Part of him even felt better, now that he had gotten it all out. Well, most of it. He squeezed her hand back before opening the stairwell door and letting her through first.

* * *

><p>By the thousandth memory, Ben knew what was happening. He'd tried to break away from the dialogue, to beg for someone to tell him what was going on, but it was almost like he was being possessed and forced to relive every detail he lost.<p>

Dean, finally coming out of his room, watching him try and eat cereal - _"Sit down, kiddo. You're not eating that sugary shit. A growing boy like you needs real food"_ - and making him breakfast for the first time. Dean, pulling away from his mom in a not-very-subtle way when he'd come back from the bathroom while they were watching _Zombieland_. Dean, secretly taking him to a parking lot behind the movie theatre after it closed - _"Let's keep this between you and me"_ - and letting him drive for the first time. Dean, salting the doors and windows - _"It keeps out tons of things." / "Like what?"_ - when they took a three-day vacation in Chicago, then taking him fishing the next day and telling him everything. Hundreds of other things he _did_remember were left unvisited, but these memories... they burned inside him, filling him with limitless yearning.

He didn't want them to stop; he just wanted to relive them, over and over again. His mom was happy. _He_was happy. But he never saw the same memory twice, and as they passed him by, a sense of dread started pricking at his mind. They would run out eventually.

Presently he was sitting at the picnic table, his Nintendo DSi held loosely in his hands as he watched his mom and Dean bring out flatware and other food items for some barbecue, when he suddenly felt a distinct presence next to him.

"The human mind is an amazing thing," the voice said. "So easily tampered with, but indestructible. They were never taken away from you, you know. Just buried."

Ben turned his head sharply. He didn't know what he'd expected, but he certainly hadn't counted on seeing himself. Only, it wasn't him; his hair was cropped shorter, his face a more cleanly shaven, something just a bit off about his eyes.

"Who are you?"

His doppelganger smiled faintly at him. "A guide of sorts." Ben tensed up immediately, but his doppelganger's smile only widened. "Don't be afraid. I'm not a demon, or a djinn. This is not a trap of any kind. I'm here to make sure your transition is smooth and you wake up unharmed."

"Forgive me if I call bullshit," Ben retorted, his voice a little terse. "What the hell happened to me? Where am I?"

"Shady Grove Adventist Hospital. When you touched the amulet, the leftover energy signature of its last long-term owner - along with your own memories - broke through the walls in your mind."

Ben blinked at him, trying to follow the explanation. Concern started itching its way through his blood.

"So I'm-"

"Comatose." His doppelganger stood, hands clasped in front of him. "It's safer than the alternative."

Ben's face twisted in agitation. "The _alternative?_Listen, I'm not Ashton freaking Kutcher. Wake me the hell up."

"I can't."

His mother laughed in the background. Dean had grabbed her and thrown her over his shoulder, his shirt soaked from a pitcher of ice water she'd tossed on him unsuspectingly. He felt his body instinctively stand to go to the hose on the side of the house. When he turned his head to look at where his doppelganger had been, he was gone.

* * *

><p>Claire didn't always pace while she was on the phone-only when she was extremely agitated or worried. Right then, as she listened to the ring on the other end of her phone, she was damn near wearing a line in the tile floor of the hospital lobby: the only place she could get any good reception (and not be barked at by the hospital staff for having a phone in use around the machines).<p>

"_Hey Claire._" Lucas answered on the second ring. His voice was friendly, but not as easy as usual. "_How's he doing?_"

Claire brought her hand to her brow, sighing into the phone regardless of how she tried to suppress it. "He hasn't woken up..."

There was a short silence before, "_Shit, Claire, I'm sorry._" She pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment, then stopped pacing. Claire had no idea how her voice was even working at the moment.

"Tell me you found something."

"_Not much,_" Lucas said, his tone apologetic. "_And nothing I would swear my life on. There are quite a few horned gods out there it might reference, and I'm not well-versed enough in art history to tell what time and place it might have come from. Could be Hathor, an Egyptian cow god all about protecting women, or a Bull-Man from Mesopotamia, an evil-fighting demon. Could even be just a regular Pan figure, although the style doesn't seem to be that Western. Thing is, none of them would have anything to do with giving Ben a seizure, not as far as I can tell._"

Of course it wouldn't be anything easy to find. Claire cursed herself silently for even daring to hope. She eased into one of the bland upholstered lobby chairs and held her head in her free hand. There was more she could tell him, but it had to be worded carefully. She just hoped she had the mental capacity for it.

"Try cross-referencing it with objects said to indicate the presence of a deity-" she paused, keeping her eyes focused on the tile floor in front of her. "_The_Deity, more specifically."

There was a long silence before Lucas said, "_Okay, will do. I swear it looks familiar, too, so I must have a book on it here somewhere._"

Claire's breath shortened. "It looks familiar?"

"_I think,_" he added quickly. "_No idea from where. Just a bit of deja vu. Hey, you still looking for information on Clifton?_"

"Clifton..." Claire blinked away a little of her momentary daze. "Oh. Yes, anything and everything."

"_Apparently there's a Hell's Gate there. Nasty one, too, like something out of a Greek myth. Path to Hades kind of thing._"

"_Jesus_," Claire breathed without thinking, rubbing the back of her neck. The muscles there were tied in knots. "And our _Ruth_came from it, I'm sure. You find anything else on her?"

"_Nothing yet. I got into the pool hall's digital security and got a good shot of her face, but nothing came up under missing persons or deaths. Not that I could find anyway. I'll keep looking, maybe float things around to other hunters. If she isn't on the level, someone could've come across her before._"

Claire sighed quietly, nodding to the phone even though Lucas couldn't see it. Fatigue was setting into her bones, but her mind was as far from sleep as possible, and every time she looked out into the hallway, she caught the sight of Ben's sleeping body across the hall and into his room. She closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair. "Right. Thanks, Lucas. Just-keep looking, I guess."

"_I will._" A short pause. "_Hang in there. And call me if there's news on Ben._"

"Will do," she replied. "Phone's always on me."

After Claire hung up, she stared blankly at the phone as it idly twirled in her fingertips. Amitiel's _helpful images_ floated like ghosts on the back of her eyelids; always there, unrelenting, and grew sharper every time she tried to make them fade.

* * *

><p>The constant beep of the heart monitor, the hiss of the saline drip on its timer, even the murmur of people wandering back and forth in the hallway had already faded into the background for Claire-and he'd only been there for six hours or so. She hadn't been logging the time.<p>

All her concentration was torn between her ears and her eyes; watching the rise and fall of the blanket over his chest, listening - _straining_- to hear anything besides breath. Occasionally, her fingers would tighten around his hand, caught between her two, just to see if there'd be a reaction. Of course, there hadn't been one yet.

"You've got horrible timing," Claire uttered flatly, and mostly to herself in some vague attempt to inject something other than excruciating worry into the still atmosphere. The triple-shot espresso she'd gotten after talking with Lucas sat on the tray near Ben's bed, forgotten. She'd barely taken three sips.

Claire swallowed the thick knot in her throat and looked down at his hand, carefully avoiding the IV taped to the back of it. Nearly dwarfing her own, it was warm and relaxed, like he was sleeping. The stark difference between her stress-tightened and cool skin made her squeeze again.

"I know that whatever this is, you're fighting it tooth and nail... I just hope you can hear me." She looked on his face, the clear breathing tubes drawing her attention first-so alien and out of place there. "I hope it somehow helps..."

The burn in her eyes wasn't the lack of sleep, at least not right then. Claire didn't even bother wiping away the tear that fell-that would require letting go of his hand, which she wasn't willing to do.

"Come back. Follow my voice back here..." Her voice fell below a whisper, tight around her vocal chords. "_I don't know what else to do, Baby_..."

A nurse slid through the sliding door and closed it behind him silently, wordlessly moving to the foot of Ben's bed to pick up the clipboard before he brought it over to the machines off to the left. Claire tracked him briefly, but dropped her eyes to Ben's hand again, going silent. Her thumb moved over his in a thoughtless rhythm. After the nurse finished writing down the notation, he hung the clipboard back on its hook.

"I need to run the GCS tests, miss."

Claire didn't look up or even move right away, but eventually she nodded, giving Ben's hand another squeeze before easing back to give the nurse some room. The chair creaked as she shifted weight on the well worn pad, reaching for her cardboard cup-both out of necessity and for something to do with her hands. The nurse moved efficiently, lifting Ben's hand in his and pinching the end of his pinkie finger while watching his face. There was no response. Once Ben's hand was returned to his side, the nurse moved to the head of his bed, pulling out a small flashlight and lifting each of Ben's eyes in turn. His pupils contracted, but other than that there was still no response. The three other tests came and went with no change, and the nurse once again moved to pick up the clipboard in order to write down the results.

"He'll be having his CAT scan in the next hour," he told Claire, returning the board.

"Thank you," she murmured quietly, twisting the cup in her hands as they rested between her knees. Her eyes were unfocused, moving on their own accord from the coffee to Ben, then to the nurse when peripheral movement drew them up. Someone was walking by the window out in the hall; Someone who looked more like some_thing_. Their skin was angry red and purple, so bright it seemed to be reflecting the fluorescent lights, run through with patched of charcoal black. They had no hair that Claire could see, and as they walked, burned streamers of what might have once been a dress flowed behind them in an unnatural breeze. Claire stared, every muscle frozen in deep instinct and too many years of experience.

The thing's head turned, eyes meeting Claire's, almost burning white against the rest of their mutilated body. She felt the tangible wave of general hatred and agony in its stare, and the hairs on the back of her neck and arms stood to full attention. Before she realized it, Claire put her cup on the side table and stood, shooting toward the hall with a muttered 'excuse me' for the nurse.

But when she rounded the corner, the thing was gone.

"Hey," came a voice behind her. She turned to find Jesse walking up, paper bag in hand. "Got you a sandwich." Claire forced a hard breath out through her lips, her eyes were a little wild when they met his. Jesse's face fell.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Claire swallowed hard and looked behind her again, in the direction where the thing would've been. Despite the setting-a place ripe for ghosts of all kinds-that one was just _jarring_.

"Just saw something out of a horror movie," she huffed, though quietly and with a mind to their surroundings. "A ghost-a very _nasty_one."

Letting out a hard breath, the panic went out of Jesse's expression. "Alright. So. I mean, I bet there's lots of ghosts around a hospital."

"Usually," she agreed, trying to filter the extra dread out of her system. Her instincts were already flaring. She really didn't need any more. "It just-caught me off guard. They're usually just echos or wanderers... they don't usually look at you." _Not like that, anyway._

He raised his eyebrows, reaching out to take her hand. "I can look into it, if you want. Make sure."

This time Claire's eyebrows lifted, though the gesture put the faintest smile on her face. "Are-are you volunteering to do _research_?"

His smile was a little stronger. "One time offer. You might want to take me up on it while it's still there." Claire's grin warmed into a much more recognizable smile. A lot of her stress showed up in her eyes at that moment, but it was still a small, needed release. She squeezed his hand and curled into him, just needing to be close.

"We'll look into it together. I could use the distraction."

Wrapping his free arm around her, he nodded. "Sounds good to me. You take the sandwich," he said, handing her the bag. "I'll grab the laptop."

An hour later, Claire was leaning heavily on her own hand, braced on the speckled cafeteria table. The caffeine wasn't working, and the sandwich Jesse bought for her was sitting like a sedative brick in her stomach. They were running Ben through tests, and sifting through newspaper articles and hacked hospital records on the laptop weren't quite the distraction she'd hoped for.

After watching part of a grieving family talk amongst themselves in the ICU lobby, another thought had come into her head, added to the mix of worry that darkened her pale eyes. She would've been able to put it off a little easier, having faith that Ben would pull out of this any second, but she'd been put into the perspective of a grieving mother very recently. The question of calling Lisa Carter simply would not leave her head.

Jesse's eyes were still focused on the computer screen, blocking away the rest of the hospital. It was good to pretend he wasn't there.

"Hey. Got something, maybe," he said, looking up from the article he'd been reading. "A fire a couple of months ago."

Claire looked up, repositioning her chin on her hand. "How bad?"

"Two deaths, five injuries." He frowned at her. "Not sure why they'd haunt the hospital, though."

"Maybe some of the injured died later."

"Ah, yeah. Sounds like a place to start at least." He pulled a pad of paper over, scribbling down a list of names. "Here's the dead and hurt. I'll search and see if there were any follow-up articles." Claire took the list, turning it in her fingers with a lingering glance.

Rolling her shoulders back, Claire sat a bit straighter in the plastic chair, lifting her eyes to Jesse. "I need to ask you something."

Jesse looked at her, his stomach twisting. "Go ahead."

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes, imploring him. "I want to call Lisa..." It didn't come out as a question, but it was still clear in her eyes.

"Oh." He rubbed his forehead. "Yeah. Shit. Hadn't even thought of that."

Claire sighed lightly, partially relieved that the idea wasn't met with a horrified face, though she wasn't even sure why that came up in her mind as a possibility. Still, it was a terribly delicate situation. "Ben wouldn't want me to, I don't think."

He looked a little surprised. "Why not? We'd want to know. She's his mom. If-" He cut himself off, a lump springing to his throat. He finished quietly. "She'd want to know."

Claire went quiet for a moment, feeling the same constriction in her chest. Her only argument was keeping her grounded, that Ben would wake any minute and bury the issue. "I know he wouldn't want to worry her-but... I don't know." She looked down at the table, finding the subject harder to speak about than she even anticipated. "Maybe we should table it-talk about it again if he... if we still need to."

Jesse nodded, not wanting to talk about it anymore. Besides, Claire probably knew best on this. "Yeah. Let's just see what we can do about this ghost."

* * *

><p>Claire had finally managed to fall asleep. On the one hand, this was a good thing, because she needed it badly. On the other, it meant Jesse had to stay in Ben's room because someone had to be ready if he woke up. Jesse hated Ben's room. It was too quiet, with the two of them sleeping there and just the beeping of the machines. He was trying to research, but they had done about as much as they could do. Which only left him sitting there, staring at Ben and thinking.<p>

He'd said before he wished he could do more. Healing and transporting himself was well and good, but when the people he cared about were hurt or trapped, it meant exactly dick. He wanted to be something better, someone better.

But maybe he could settle for _knowing_someone better.

He knew Claire would object to Ruth coming around to help, and that Ben would probably agree with her. But Ruth wasn't a demon, he knew that much. And if she could help, he didn't really care if they didn't like it.

Feeling a little ridiculous, Jesse closed his eyes. "Ruth?" She'd said he was her master, so he hoped she was listening. "Ruth, could you come help me?"

At first there was no answer; just silence, resounding in his head. Then he heard it, the whisper-soft feminine echo:

_[ Shouldn't be here they'll see me they'll see me can't let them see me ]_

The same nagging sensation from the bar expanded in his chest, and then he heard a deep inhale from behind him.

"Hi."

He opened his eyes, his stomach twisting as he turned around. An almost kind of relief swept over him. She hadn't been in his imagination.

"Hi," he said, getting to his feet.

Just like before, he could feel the thrumming heartbeat of her emotions pouring into him: fear, concern, anxiety, adoration, and devotion twisted around her like living things. Her expression was tight.

"I shouldn't be here."

_[ They'll see me they'll see me shouldn't stay run and hide and run and hide anything you ask anything you want always yours always always always ]_

"It won't take long," he said quickly, wishing he could get her words out of his head. "I...you healed me before. Now I want you to heal my friend, Ben." He gestured at the bed. The blonde looked at its occupant as though registering there was another person in the room for the first time. Then her eyes settled on Claire, whose head was propped against the nearby wall, her hand clutching one of Ben's loosely. Ruth rolled her lips and swallowed, her eyes meeting Jesse's apprehensively.

"Okay," she whispered. She moved over to the side, bending over Ben's unconscious body, her hands moving to his head. Her eyes fell closed and the very air around her felt as though it grew brighter.

Jesse held his breath as he watched, his heart aching with hope. "Please please please," he whispered under his breath, hardly aware he was saying it. It could have been seconds or years, but finally Ruth pulled her hands away.

"Nothing's broken," she whispered at last. "But... he's locked himself up inside his head. I tried to get to him, but he won't come out."

Looking at her, Jesse's face twisted, but he nodded. "Okay. Thought...thought it was worth a try."

_[ Don't be sad don't be sad don't want you to be sad ]_

Her hand went out to his, finding it and giving it a weak squeeze. "He's not in pain. He's just looking for something and doesn't want to leave until he's found it."

His breath caught. "What do you mean?"

Ruth took a step closer, letting go of his hand and bringing both of hers up to his temples. This time when he heard her thoughts, they were much more smooth and intentional.

_[ Others have been in his head before, ]_ The whispered voice said. Ruth kept her eyes open, meeting Jesse's as if she were speaking aloud. _[ I could feel the remnants there. They were very powerful. There are scars on him, like someone cut pieces away, but he's healing now. And the other one... ]_

Jesse's eyes went wide. He stared at her, forgetting to breathe, before glancing back at the bed. "Claire?"

Ruth shook her head. _[ No, there were two there. The last one hurt him. They both did, but the last one was more recent. Burns, not cuts. Meant to hurt. Very different. ]_

The horror was clear on his face. "_Who?_Who hurt him?"

_[ I can only see the damage, not the cause. ]_ Her hands slid away from his face, but she didn't pull away completely. _[ Can't stay can't stay they'll see me can't let them see me gotta run hide run hide run hide- ]_

He wanted to stop her, but he'd gotten all he could. "Go. Seriously, you can go any time you want. Don't stay because of me."

Ruth's eyes filling with need and longing. A tremble shook her from head to foot, and she found his hands again.

_[ Would stay with you forever if I could meant to stay should stay want to stay can't stay they'll see me gotta hide - ]_

"I wish you could understand," she whispered, emotion in her voice. "I _want_ to stay. _So badly._"

_[ Made for you born to follow anywhere you go always yours always ]_

"But I know shouldn't, and I only stayed before because you wanted me to stay. I'll do whatever you ask me to."

Jesse felt his face burning up and he swallowed hard. "Go. Y-you need to go, so you can go."

She nodded and pulled away again, the thrum of devotion and adoration swelling again before she blinked out of existence. He gasped as the emotions faded with her. Maybe drunk he hadn't been as aware of it, but the constant bombardment of everything she felt, everything she felt for _him_, was a dizzying high. Looking around the room brought him right back down again, though.

She hadn't been able to help Ben. He'd done everything he could think of, and it wasn't enough.

* * *

><p>"Where the hell were you!"<p>

He'd taken the long way home after getting in a fight with his friend Aaron at school. They'd gotten permission slips to go on a field trip, and their teacher had pointed out that they were looking for additional chaperons. Aaron had suggested he "ask his dad" to come along. Ben had shouted at him that Dean was not his "fucking father." Luckily, it had been the first time he'd ever used profanity in class, and the principal had let him off with a warning. Rather than wait for his not-father to pick him up in front of all his friends, he'd walked. Dean was livid.

"Dude, chill. I walked. It's no big deal-"

Dean tried to touch his face but Ben jerked back, feeling a complicated twist of emotions rush up from his gut and into his throat. Some of the anger had faded from Dean's eyes, but he looked scared. Honest to god scared, like his mom did the first time he'd gone biking alone without telling her.

"I waited for half an hour," Dean nearly shouted. "After going in and checking every single classroom tryin' to find you. You can't just up and leave me like that without letting me know where you are! What if something had happened-"

"You're not my dad!" Ben shouted over him, shaking with rage. Dean stared at him open-mouthed in shock, and before he found his words again Ben shoved past him, running into the house and slamming the door to his bedroom shut. Angry tears filled his eyes as he sank to the floor with his back against the door. His doppelganger sat on the end of the bed facing him, his eyes deeply empathetic. A few moments later he heard Dean's heavy but familiar footfall on the stairs, which stopped just outside his door.

"Ben..."

"Go away!"

There was a sigh, and Ben swiped furiously at his eyes as the tears spilled over.

"Ben, I'm not tryin' to be your dad." Ben felt a twist in his gut, like gratitude and regret at the same time. Beneath all of it, the part of him that knew it was just another memory felt his heart breaking. "But that doesn't mean I don't care what happens to you. I just... don't want you gettin' hurt." There's a breath of a laugh on the other side of the door before Dean adds, "Your mom would kick my ass if anything happened to you."

In spite of himself, Ben felt his lips lift in a smile.

"Listen, Sa-" Dean's voice suddenly cut off, and while Ben had felt confused at the slip when he was a kid, now he just felt more heartbroken. He wished he had opened the door, but he's a slave to the memories and unless his memory self did it, he couldn't make it so.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you. Just... please don't do that again, okay?"

Then the footsteps moved, fading as they went down the stairs again.

* * *

><p>"I have no idea how you're gonna run EMF in a hospital," Izzy said quietly, chewing her lower lip in thought. "With all the interference, you won't find much in the way of clues."<p>

"Cold spots?" Jesse asked. He had half a sandwich in hand but wasn't really eating it. The diner had piled their plates high with food, but as good as it looked, it just wasn't on his mind. Claire's either, although her coffee mug certainly had a lot of her attention; she was on her fourth cup in the last twenty minutes, but it didn't look like it was helping any.

"Thing had the look like it _wanted_to be seen," she said, stirring a pack of natural sugar into the brew. "It just had that feel."

Izzy chewed her lips thoughtfully. "Doesn't really sound like a normal ghost. Maybe it's a death omen?" Her hands twisted around the mug, soaking up the heat.

Jesse straightened immediately, looking at Claire, then back at Izzy. "What's that supposed to mean?" Claire just kept staring at her mug. The words 'it crossed my mind' kept getting stuck in her throat, because then that would be admitting the idea that a death omen had just shown itself to her-around _Ben_, which meant either one of them could've been on the Reaper list.

"My gut says no." That was all she could offer, punctuating the statement with a drink of hot coffee.

Quietly eating in the corner up until that moment, Jed nodded. "Go with your gut, then. You been around long enough to know."

Izzy frowned a little. "Have you checked the morgue yet? If it died in the hospital, it's possible the body's on ice downstairs."

Claire nodded, bracing herself on the table with bent elbows and looking up at Izzy. "S'a good idea."

After a moment, Jesse said, "Why would it be one of them and not the others?"

Claire tiredly half-shrugged. "It's hard to tell. Lots of people die violent deaths, but not all of them stick around."

Izzy's frown deepened. "Problem is, the staff knows the both of you now. It'll be difficult gettin' down there." Her hand slid to Jed's knee under the table as she turned to look at him. "Up for the challenge?"

The blond Texan quirked a smile at her. "Not much of a challenge, but sure. Always good to work on a job 'round the home base."

Jesse opened his mouth to say that wouldn't be necessary, but quickly thought better of it. Claire, feeling some semblance of relief, offered them both a tired, genuine smile. It cooled a little when a waitress sided up to the table, checking on the status of everyone's coffee.

"Can I get a to-go box?"

The smell of her untouched fries seemed to saturate the elevator on the way up to the ICU after she and Jesse said their goodbyes to Jed and Izzy. Claire's stomach was reminding her that she hadn't eaten nearly enough, and it'd been long enough that ignoring her hunger wasn't an option. She popped open the foam tray and popped a fry in her mouth; her movements more autopilot than anything. With a small smile, Jesse stole a fry as the door opened.

"There's nothing on this floor that could cause those kind of burns."

It was obvious that the nurse had pitched his voice low, but it carried farther than he probably realized. Jesse and Claire couldn't hear the response of the doctor he was talking to, but the nurse was clear enough:

"It had to have been an open flame. Security's looking over the tapes now. Whoever did it last night is a sadistic bastard, and a fucking coward for attacking coma patients of all people."

Claire watched the two continue on down the hallway past the elevator, feeling the blood rush from her face after catching the last ominous bit.

"Tell me you heard that," she uttered, almost choking on her fry.

"Yeah," Jesse breathed before taking off at a walk that was closer to a run straight for Ben's room. Claire was right on his heels, almost chucking the leftover food on the table when they arrived.

He didn't look any different; there were no new machines, no bandages. Claire picked up the cardboard clip at the end of his bed and flipped through it, also finding nothing new. The flare of panic in her eyes melted away, leaving her looking and feeling a lot more tired.

"He's alright?" Jesse said, taking Ben's hand and looking between the two of them. "Nothing different?"

"Doesn't look like it," she breathed, hanging up the chart and looking down at Ben. She leaned on the side of the bed, pushing her hand back over his hair. "We need to find out what that nurse was talking about, though." Jed had said listen to her gut-and _that_is what her gut was telling her. She couldn't let this go.

"I'll do that," Jesse said quickly, his lips pursed. "You stay here with him."

Tracing back his steps, Jesse easily caught up with the nurse in another coma patient's room. He went with his usual route.

"Hey there."

The nurse looked up in surprise, a frown creasing his forehead. "Sir, you're not supposed to be here," he said, his voice somewhere between polite and agitated. "There are buzzers in each of the rooms if you require assistance-"

"Oh no, I'm supposed to be here," Jesse reassured him firmly, but with a smile. "I heard there was something wrong with some of the coma patients. Tell me about it."

The nurse blinked slowly at him, his eyes glazing over before he smiled faintly at him. "What d'you wanna know?"

His expression turning more serious, Jesse said, "I heard they were attacked. What happened?"

The nurse shrugged slightly. "Dunno. That's what's got the attending doctors in a tizzy, yeah? No way they could've been burned unless exposed to fire."

"So you're saying someone came in here, and burned them? How badly? Can I see one?" Jesse said in rapid succession.

The nurse blinked at him, confusion registering on his face, before he started walking out of the room. "They're checking the cameras now. It's second degree deep partials. That kind of exposure would only work if someone stuck a brand on someone."

Jesse followed at his side. "A brand? How would someone get that kind of thing into the hospital."

"Won't know until we look over the footage." They approached a room not too far down the hall and the nurse opened the sliding door, leading them through it. On the bed was a young woman, maybe fourteen years old at best. The nurse walked up to the bed, pulling her sheet back. The skin around her feet had blistered brown and shriveled back, the flesh beneath bright pink. Jesse recoiled, swallowing hard.

"Holy shit," he breathed.

"It's like someone lit her on fire and held her there," the nurse said in a daze. "But we would have noticed. Alarms would have gone off; someone would have seen it. There's two others like this."

Clenching his fists, Jesse nodded. "Thanks for your help, mate. You take care of them." As he headed from the room, his expression tightened. They were going to have to make this ghost pay.

* * *

><p>"Do you love her?"<p>

Ben watched as the sounds beneath the car suddenly stopped. Everything felt like it was moving faster than it ought to; he could hear the words before they were actually said, whispered echoes that made his pulse feel like it was pumping faster and harder. On the opposite side of the car and leaning against the far wall was his doppelganger; Ben could senses him there and see the shape of him, but he hadn't made eye contact with him for at least twenty memories now.

"It's complicated, Ben."

"Don't give me that crap," he heard himself say, his hands going to Dean's ankles and yanking. Dean's body rolled forward, his face revealed and his expression unreadable. Or at least, it had been to his twelve-year-old self. At twenty-five, Ben recognized it: conflict.

"It doesn't have to be complicated. You're _making_it complicated."

"Ben-"

"Do you have any idea what it was like before you showed up?"

Dean was silent, staring up at him from the ground. Ben felt his nerves skyrocket. He'd never felt so bold in his life until that moment, looking down at a man who normally towered over him and made him feel so small.

"Nobody ever lived with us before you, Dean."

Something in Dean's eyes changed, but he stayed silent. Ben felt his insides squirm.

"I know," the older man said at last.

* * *

><p>It was still dark out when something in the back of Claire's mind started to drag her out of deep sleep. She and Jesse had passed out around midnight, scrunched up in the loveseat opposite Ben's bed. Izzy and Jed's trip down to the morgue had been fruitless, and most of the rest of the day had been spent looking for more leads on the Burned Thing that she was <em>sure<em>had been behind the attacks.

Her eyes opened, though they were still glossed over with sleep. Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she pushed off of Jesse's chest and turned her face toward the hallway. People were running. Someone was wailing. She watched the scene with a detached, almost drugged curiosity, slowly becoming aware of the warmth spreading through her bones, bringing with it another wave of extreme fatigue. She willed her feet to move, but they didn't obey. Seconds later all her fuzzy resolve had melted away.

With a deep breath that felt heavy and acrid as smoke, Claire laid her head back down and closed her eyes.

The next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake. Jesse jerked awake also, his arms instinctively tightening around Claire. He looked up with blurry eyes into the concerned face of the nurse he'd talked with before.

"Wha's happenin'?" he croaked out.

"Did you see anyone in here just now?" he asked in a rushed voice, his eyes wide. Claire worked to sit up and breathe at the same time. Her eyes darted around the nurse to the room, then back, shaking her head.

"Just-just us."

The nurse pulled back and moved to Ben's bedside. His sheets had already been pulled back, and his feet were exposed; the skin was deeply blistered and peeling, just like the teenaged girl Jesse had seen earlier. Claire's eyes went wide, and all the air pushed out of her lungs. Immediately she was up on her feet, every scrap of energy and panic aimed directly at the nurse.

"How did this happen?" she was on the edge of shouting, everything they had learned in the last day just wasn't making it to her thought process.

Grabbing the back of her shirt, Jesse yanked her back into his arms, holding fast. "Easy, easy. It's not his fault," Jesse soothed. Then, quieter, "The ghost."

"We don't know, miss," the nurse tried to explain, his voice strained for all that he was speaking calmly. "The police are here and are going to be interviewing everyone in this wing."

Claire barely heard him, her spine rigid against Jesse and her eyes locked on the seared parts of Ben's feet. Flashes of her dream from the last night strobed through her thoughts; _people running, someone screaming_. She looked out the room windows into the hallway, where the activity level was well beyond the normal walk and murmur of a typical ICU.

Jesse followed her gaze, then looked back at the nurse. "Who else has this happened to?"

The nurse's jaw tightened. "We have confidentiality rules, sir; I can't tell you. Please excuse me." He immediately moved to the sliding door, opening it and moving through it before rushing down the hall. The moment he was gone Claire broke for Ben's side, frantically checking the rest of him before getting close, brushing back his hair and examining his face. It still looked just like he was sleeping, as it had been for two days. The stress and worry were mixing toxically in her stomach, sour with a bit of the anger she almost vented on the nurse. Jesse stayed back, collapsing onto the loveseat and running his hands through his hair.

"Shouldn't have fallen asleep," he said towards the floor.

Exhausted inside and out, Claire pressed her brow against Ben's and muttered something against his cheek. She stroked his hair and kissed his temple before straightening with a sniff, turning to snatch her bag from the nearby tray. Whatever ambiguous feelings she had about a hunt in the middle of dealing with his coma were now undeniable. She had the look of a tidal wave in her eyes, and headed for the door.

"I'll be right back-getting something out of the car."

* * *

><p>Jesse sat on the end of Ben's bed, watching as Claire lined every entrance with salt-tape. He opened his mouth when she went for the door but thought better of it. They needed to keep Ben safe, and Jesse wasn't about to leave the room anyway.<p>

Just as Claire finished up, he saw a couple of cops outside the glass, headed their way.

"Looks like we got a Q & A coming at us," he said with a sigh, getting to his feet. Like they really needed to waste time on telling the police they'd been sleeping. Claire glanced up, then pinched the tape down to the door's corner and stuck the roll in her pocket, right as the two officers crossed the threshold. It was the woman who spoke first, her eyes falling on Claire:

"Hello, I'm Officer Fisher, and this is my partner Officer Hamill. You're Miss Greene?"

Claire didn't bother hiding the stress in her eyes. She folded her arms mildly across her chest, settling in the chair across from Ben's bed. "That's me."

Hamill took out a notepad from his pocket and flipped it open before starting to jot down notes. Fisher's eyes moved to Jesse.

"And your name is?"

Jesse stuck his hands in his pockets, sliding automatically into a sulk. "Jesse," he answered shortly.

Her eyes narrowed. "Your full name, please."

"It's Greene," Claire injected, and not all that warmly. Call her a little on the aggressively defensive side, but she didn't like the look or the tone. "He's my step-brother."

Hamill frowned, but remained silent as his partner continued on with the questioning.

"According to the hospital's records, you've been here since 3:38pm yesterday afternoon, is that correct?" Claire nodded, dropping her hands to her lap.

"I came in a half-hour later, since you'll probably ask," Jesse piped up, his tone too helpful to be sincere.

Fisher pressed her lips in a thin line before she said, "Outside of the one-hour break yesterday evening, have either of you left the hospital?"

"No, we haven't left," Claire answered. She leaned back against the chair corner, and propped her head with steepled fingers. It was just about going through the motions with them, since she knew nothing would come of any investigation run by the local cops. Claire was just waiting for them to leave so she and Jesse could get back to work.

Hamill finally spoke up, looking between the two of them. "Have either of you noticed anything out of the ordinary about the staff? Strange behavior, that sort of thing?"

"Aside from them freaking out that coma patients are being attacked, no." Jesse grinned at them. "But I guess that's why you're here."

Fisher exchanged a look with Hamill, then looked at Jesse. "Have either of you experienced any sudden drops in temperature in the room?"

"What?" Claire blurted automatically, looking up from Ben to the two cops. Thankfully, she'd seen the same reaction in people when _she_was interviewing incognito, but it was that same familiarity to the question that snapped her to attention. Suddenly, she was looking at their uniforms a lot closer.

"Cold spots, miss," Hamill clarified.

"Or seen any of the lights flickering," Fisher added, her voice even.

Any smirking remaining dropped from Jesse's face. He looked at Claire, wide-eyed and speechless. She caught the look and returned it with one that was much more subtle; simply the slightest turn to her head-the ghost of a head-shake. They were thinking the same thing; hopefully he'd get her cue to keep as low-key as possible.

"Fisher and Hamill, was it?" Claire said, looking to both of them without answering the question-yet. "They do that on purpose at the station? Put you two together?"

Fisher's lips twitched, but it was Hamill who spoke: "Joke of the century, miss. Now please answer the question."

"Yeah-both, actually," she started. Her eyes lingered on the face of the man, then his partner slowly after, purposefully keeping the hard line of eye-contact. "And I doubt you're looking for problems with the A/C or faulty wiring."

Fisher's brows arched, while Hamill's eyes grew slightly wider. After a moment's pause, Hamill turned and slid the sliding glass door shut. It was only upon looking down that he seemed to notice the salt-tape.

"Well there's something y'don't see every day."

"Leave it there," Claire warned, her voice flat. Not that she thought the two unknown hunters would cross that particular line, but she wasn't leaving any wiggle room. Not with Ben involved.

"We didn't know there was anyone else on this case," Fisher said, sounding apologetic. Claire just rolled her lips together and shook her head, looking for the millionth time on Ben's peaceful face.

"Yeah, well-it kinda found us."

"We got it, though," Jesse said firmly. "Got a couple local hunters helping us on it, too, so this case is plenty covered."

Fisher pulled out a card from the depths of her front pocket and passed it to Claire, her brown eyes softer with unspoken sympathy.

"If you need any help at all, here's my number. I'm Kate, by the way. And this is my brother Danny."

Danny waved awkwardly and flashed a surprisingly boyish smile.

"We'll get outta your hair, then," he said. Claire nodded, loosening up just a little as well. It was good not to have to deal with the police at this point in time. Except one thing did cross her mind.

"I do have one question," she said in earnest, sitting up straight in the chair. "How'd you hear about this thing?"

"Came up on the radio," Danny said, pulling off his hat to scratch the back of his neck. "A few of the coma patients've died."

"We've got a friend on the police force here, so we got an in through him," Kate added. "He and his partner are working at the other end of the hall."

"Died?" Jesse blurted. "When?"

"'Bout an hour ago," Kate answered. Her eyes moved to Ben's bed, then switched between Jesse and Claire. "Is he with you?"

"Yes," she answered hollowly. Claire's stomach was digesting itself.

"Were they the ones attacked yesterday?" Jesse said, not looking at Claire or Ben's unconscious form. Kate nodded solemnly.

"And the three of them have no connection that we're aware of," Danny supplied. "But we'll pass on any information we get from our friend."

Feeling like he was boiling up inside, Jesse gave a curt shake of his head. "We got this on our own."

Kate frowned a little. "We'll back off the case, no problem, but the least we could do is throw you a bone with the info from our cop friend. It's one less thing you'll have to hunt down, y'know?"

"We don't need help," Jesse snapped. Claire sent him a look. She understood his frustration, the stress that was tying her own muscles in knots was written clear in his eyes, but acting out only called more attention to their situation. That was the last thing she wanted.

"It's been a long week," she added to the others with a forced imploring look. "We'll keep in touch, thanks." Though gentle, there was finality to her words.

Kate and Danny exchanged looks, but Kate finally nodded again as Danny put his hat back on.

"Good luck," he said his voice sincere.

"You too," Claire returned, watching them leave. Her eyes then slid to Jesse, then onto Ben, where they lingered for a long, uneven breath.

"It's not gonna happen to him," Jesse said fiercely. "He's gonna be fine."

Something in Claire's eyes wavered, like water, but they didn't fall away from the man in the hospital bed. She said nothing, but the lines of her throat tensed in a thick swallow. She fished her phone out from her pocket, searched through the contacts, and called Izzy.

"Iz-" she said, having to clear her throat to make her voice work properly. "We got a bigger problem."

* * *

><p>Ben paced the floor of his room, having left three messages on Dean's phone in six hours. It was pushing on two in the morning, and he halfway through a second message.<p>

"I know you're on a hunt," he babbled thoughtlessly. "And I know mom's cool with you bein' gone, but-"

An incoming call beeped midway through his sentence, and Ben pulled the phone back. Dean's name and number appeared on the Incoming Call screen. He beeped over.

_"What is it? Are you all right?"_

Ben immediately felt a rush of remembered shame. Dean's voice sounded gritty, like he'd just woken up. His eyes rose to find his doppelganger standing ahead of him, but he quickly averted his eyes again.

"Yeah. I- I'm fine."

_"Why the hell are you awake? It's-"_ There was a pause, and Ben knew that Dean was looking for a clock to see just how late it was. _"2 am. You have class tomorrow-"_

"What happens if something comes after us when you're gone?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone, then the distant sound of a door opening and closing.

_"Ben..."_

"You wouldn't let me learn how to use a gun," Ben blurted.

_"Your mom has a gun. I don't want you usin' a gun, d'you understand? We talked about this."_

"But what if-"

_"Stop."_

Ben closed his mouth, feeling a shudder work its way under his skin. Dean sighed on the other end of the line.

_"Listen to me. You know all the things to ward the house. You'll be safe so long as you keep your cool, okay?"_

"But-"

_"And,"_ Dean interrupted, _"If anything ever happens, and the wards don't hold or-... Or something happens to your mom, I want you to go to Lawrence, Kansas."_

"Lawrence?"

_"There's a woman who lives there. Her name's Missouri Mosley."_

Ben scrambled to get to his desk to write everything down. "What about Bobby?"

_"Bobby's been out on the field a lot more these days. He might not always be there, but Missouri's still in Lawrence s'far as I know. She'll know how to find me."_

"How?" Ben pressed. Dean laughed quietly.

_"Just trust me, okay?"_

Ben fell silent again, sitting down slowly in his desk chair and staring out the window.

_"You gonna be okay?"_Dean asked. Ben nodded even though Dean couldn't see him.

"Yeah," he said at last. "Just... come back soon. Please."

_"Soon as this case is over, I'll come back for a few days. I promise."_

* * *

><p>They had researched for going on ten hours straight with no breaks, but Izzy and Jed finally found the potential death resulting in the body of their ghost: Camilla Groff. She had been listed as one of the people brought into Shady Grove Advenist Hospital as an injury, when in fact she had been living in the apartment complex in a coma. Her parents had moved her from the hospital and hired a private nurse so that she could be cared for in their home. According to the file, she had been comatose for nearly two years from a horseback riding accident. All the pieces fit; now they just had to find the body. There were over 150 cemeteries in the Shady Grove area.<p>

It was times like these that Izzy was so incredibly thankful for modern technology, as it only took ten minutes to type her name into a gravesite locator website, and that was because there were three C. Groff's listed in the database.

Now it was just a matter of digging up the grave and keeping an eye out for the caretaker.

"Y'go ahead and call her. I'll unload the truck," Izzy said.

"Generally goes the other way around, but I'll give you this one since you don't get out much," Jed said, giving her a grin as she threw a playful punch at his shoulder while trotting off before dialing Claire's number.

_"Tell me something good,"_came Claire's greeting on the other end of the line.

"We're gonna start digging right now," he said, pride in his voice despite the grim situation. "You two hanging in there alright?"

Back in Ben's hospital room, Claire looked over at Jesse from her place by the window. It was late; the halls were quiet, though not as much as they would be had three patients not suddenly died on watch. She sighed, and rubbed at her eye with the heel of her palm. "As expected, I guess."

_"Don't worry, darlin',"_ Jed said quietly. _"We'll get this squared away and he'll be fine in no time."_

"Means a lot, Jed," she replied honestly. "Shoot me a text when it's done."

Claire pushed the phone back in her pocket and checked the tape on the window, making sure it remained unbroken with the pad of her thumb.

Jesse sat on the chair by the bed, tracing the bedspread around Ben's hand over and over. He was tired, though he didn't want to admit it. It was like admitting he was a failure. He had to protect Ben; he shouldn't want to sleep.

"Any luck?" he asked, though he didn't look at Claire.

"They're digging now," she replied, just as tired. Claire sat heavily on the chair on the opposite side, her eyes vaguely focused on the salt lingering on her skin, being rubbed between her fingertips.

Nodding firmly, Jesse finally looked her way. "He's safe with us. It'll be done soon."

_He wasn't safe last night,_Claire thought automatically, but folded her lips between her teeth instead of giving it voice. She put her faith in Jesse's last words, though-that it'd be over soon. Then they could just go back to wondering why the man they loved was gone to the world, and if he would ever come back. Claire closed her eyes, her shoulders deflated with another long breath.

His eyes falling back to the bedspread, Jesse watched his tracing as it started to slow. It was like a lead blanket had been draped over him. He blinked, long and blissful, and was debating just shutting his eyes for a moment when a smell wrinkled his nose. It was something acrid and chemical and unlike anything he'd smelled before. Turning his head, he saw the burnt ghost standing in the doorway.

"Claire!" he shouted, jumping to his feet. His head spun with exhaustion and he grabbed onto the foot of the bed to keep upright.

She wretched a hard look over her shoulder and her stomach sank like a stone. Automatically getting to her feet to put herself between Ben's bed and that _Thing_, Claire's eyes shot to the tape at it's feet to reassure herself it was still there.

"Wrong room, bitch," she muttered dangerously. She forcibly ignored the too-warm sluggishness that had started to creep behind her eyes.

Cocking her head to the side, the ghost looked down at the tape. Then one side of it burst into flames.

"Shit!" Jesse raced forward, hitting the fire out with his hands, but it was too late. With a flick of her wrist, the ghost sent him flying into the wall as it strode into the room. Claire checked him with the corner of her eye, but didn't budge. Her heart hammered against it's cage of bone and muscle, fueling the frantic grab at the contents spilled from a take-out bag on the side table nearby.

_Hurry up Izzy hurry up hurry up_-her thought ran on loop as she watched the thing glide forward, locked in it's hellish gaze. When her fingers found what she was searching for, she tore the paper between them and chucked a small handful of salt right at it.

The ghost gave a shriek of surprise, disappearing in a flicker. Stumbling to his feet, Jesse looked around. Was that it? Had Jed and Izzy done it?

Flaring up right behind Claire, the ghost raised white-hot hands, about to close them around the woman.

"No!" Jesse screamed, too far and too slow to do anything about it.

But then a flame burst from the center of the ghost with a scream. It jerked back, its head rolling as the fire spread, high and red. Claire instinctively jerked back, nearly tripping over the chair in the process as she watched the spirit burn.

When it was over, she just collapsed in the cheap leather substitute and finally breathed. She was dizzy from what could've been fumes, or the thing's influence as it faded. Whatever the reason, the room needed to stop spinning. A second later, her phone started to buzz.

"You two have impeccable timing," she said into the phone after answering it. Her tone was colorless.

Swallowing hard, Jesse's eyes went from her to Ben. He hurried to the bed, grabbing Ben's shoulder. "Ben?" he said, searching the other man's face for so much as a twitch. "Ben, c'mon."

But Ben remained just as motionless as he had when it all began. Jesse's face crumpled, but he quickly took a breath, reining it back. Feeling more weighted than ever he straightened, looking over at Claire.

She was just hanging up with Jed and Izzy when she met his eyes, then looked on Ben. She lingered like that in silence as long as she could, before her chin dipped, her head too heavy for her neck. She buried her face in her hands, supported by her knees, and just stayed that way as the rush of footfall down the hallway signaled incoming hospital staff.

* * *

><p>Regaining his lost memories had filled Ben with mixed emotions. Some of them had been wonderful, others bittersweet.<p>

Nothing had prepared him for his reoccurring nightmare finally taking full length, with color, sound, and sensation. He could feel the bite of the knife his possessed mother held against his neck, the unnatural strength of her body holding him still, the heat of her breath on his ear when she said all the things he knew in his heart to be lies. He had screamed in protest when the demon riding her had stuck the jagged metal pipe into her liver. He knew the exorcism. He could have made a grab for her, held her arms back or her body down while Dean rushed through the words. But just like before, his body refused to bend to his will.

Everything inside him seared with renewed and remembered fear as his mother started to bleed out. It was only Dean's stinging slap that snapped him out of his shock, and from there the nightmare continued all the way out of the door. His shoulder ached from the kickback of the shotgun, his heart racing as he watched the bodies of the demons collapsing. It knocked them back, but they didn't stay down. It was only after Sam joined them that they even made it out of the warehouse and to the hospital.

Before he knew it, a man in a trench coat had touched two fingers to his forehead and everything faded to whiteness. He looked down at himself, finding his hands, torso, legs and feet. When he took a step, no sound reached his ears, but he could still see and feel the movement.

"So now what!" He shouted into the wide, empty space. "It's over! I've got them back now! Why am I here!"

"I wanted to speak with you one last time, while I had the chance."

Ben turned swiftly, finding his doppelganger standing just behind him, his stance loose and his hands in his pockets. Ben frowned at him.

"Who are you?"

"I told you-"

"No, dammit. Tell me your name. You're in my head; I have a right to know."

His doppelganger's shoulders straightened.

"My name is Amitiel. I am an angel of the Lord."

Ben's hands clenched up at his sides, his lips curling back in a snarl. "Get the _hell_out of my head!"

"I'm not here to harm you, Ben," Amitiel said calmly, taking a step closer. Ben recoiled automatically, and the angel sighed.

"I want to help you. That's all I ever wanted to do."

"Why?" Ben demanded. "And don't go sayin' it's because it's God's will and all that other shit. Castiel said that to my dad too, and I read what happened. All of it was bullshit; God didn't have anything to do with his orders."

Amitiel frowned at him. Ben tried not to focus too much on how the angel used his own face to show his displeasure.

"You know as well as I do that a war is brewing," Amitiel explained. "Sam and Dean Winchester may have averted the last one, but the apocalypse was always meant to happen. Nothing can stop it; it's the natural progression of things. All that happened as a result of their actions was it being delayed."

Ben felt dread seeping into his very bones. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Believe it or not," Amitiel said. "I don't want your world to end. If Belial is allowed to harness the full power of his army, he will bring that army to the gates of Heaven and millions will cease to be. The war will rage for all eternity, and the only way to keep it from happening is to be constantly vigilant; to cut off the head of the serpent before it strikes."

"I'll say it again," Ben growled out. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you have the ability to stop this new threat." Amitiel met his eyes with an intense stare. "But you can't do it without me."

Ben's expression darkened. "No." Amitiel took an unnecessary breath to speak, but Ben cut him off. "I won't be your Vessel. Forget it."

"Do you want your friends to die?" Amitiel argued. "Your mother? Your sister?"

"Everyone dies eventually!" Ben shouted.

"But they don't have to die in agony, Ben," Amitiel countered. "And they will. Everyone you've ever loved, everyone you've ever known, will burn."

In spite of himself, Ben felt a shudder pulse through him.

"Find another fucking puppet to do your bidding. Angels and demons, you're all alike. What's it matter if it's you who kills him or not? There's gotta be someone higher up on the fucking totem pole than you-"

"There's plenty," Amitiel interrupted, his expression growing hard. "But they would just as easily let the war happen."

Ben fell silent, swallowing around a knot in his throat.

"Don't you understand?" the angel implored him. "Your Bible was wrong: when the end of days is upon us, that doesn't mean the ones who are saved are safe."

It was as though every vein in Ben's body was flooded with ice.

"But I can save them," Ben said quietly. "I can find another way. There's always another way."

"Any way other than this one will result in pain for you," Amitiel told him. "It can be over quickly."

"And then I die," Ben said in a flat voice. "And it still doesn't prevent it forever. It'll still happen again."

The angel nodded. "That is the life of the martyr, Benjamen Braeden: the death of one, to save the lives of many. It is not a dishonorable death. You will be a hero. In another twenty years, someone else will also have to make the same choice. So long as mankind wants this world to continue spinning, there will be those to help them do so."

Ben felt an ache in his chest as the full weight of the angel's words sank into him.

"What must I do?" he whispered.

"Belial is hidden from us," Amitiel said. "He must be drawn into the open. I'll be watching you. When you are ready, call unto me, and together we will strike him down."

Ben closed his eyes, but he couldn't escape. He was, after all, inside his own head.

"Rest now," the angel said soothingly. "Be at peace. I'll be with you again soon."

* * *

><p>The first thing Ben noticed as he started to wake was how incredibly uncomfortable he was. It was a slow process, but there was no ignoring the fact that his back ached. It refused to be ignored. His arm also itched like crazy, but when he tried to raise his hand to itch it, there was resistance.<p>

"_Ow,_" he whined.

Claire half-stirred from her crumpled position on the chair next to his bed, dragged away from an exhausted attempt at sleep by the noise. Her eyes were still glazed by sleep when she opened them, just slits through her lashes that didn't quite see anything they looked at. Until the noise that woke her up finally registered.

"_Oh, God-!_" She was on him in a breath, arms curled around his neck and the chair nearly thrown across the room. Her sudden presence was enough to make him wheeze in surprise as he became steadily more aware of everything that was attached to him.

Jesse jerked to his feet from where he'd lain, near dozing. He hadn't heard Ben, but Claire was hard to miss. For an endless, terrible moment he thought something else had happened to Ben. Then he saw him moving. He rushed over, nearly squashing Claire in the process, his hand running up into Ben's hair.

"Welcome back, you asshole," he laughed, his vision swimming.

"There's a tube in my nose," Ben said, his good arm coming up to rest a hand on Claire shoulder. His mouth felt like a desert. "How long was I out?"

"Almost three damn days," Claire said, sniffing before she pulled back from where her face had been buried in his shoulder. The wash of relief was almost strong enough to drown her, and the smile refused to leave her face.

"Freaked us out, mate," Jesse said, wiping at his eyes but grinning. "You're not supposed to do that to us."

"Guess it was my turn," the younger man mused, his expression unreadable. "Sorry if I scared you." He pulled at the cannula still lodged in his nose. "Can we call the nurse or something?"

Claire looked like she'd forgotten her own name for a moment, though it was brief. Lack of sleep and the entire last three days and the way they ended-it was enough to blank her brain for a heartbeat before the dazed expression broke into a vivid smile. "Yes-yes!" She planted a quick, but needed kiss to the side of his mouth, then started off the bed. "_God_, yes-let's do that."

Jesse shifted out of the way before taking her place, squeezing Ben's hand tight. He leaned in for a quick kiss. "You need anything else? I can make it happen."

"Water'd be nice," Ben answered, smiling weakly. "I just wanna get outta here. I really hate hospitals." He started to say something about why they'd brought him there in the first place, but bit it back. They'd been in the pawn shop; it would've made sense that an ambulance would have been called. He squeezed Jesse's hand back, feeling a rush of both pleasure and concern at how much the two of them were nearly tumbling over themselves to help him - especially Jesse, who had barely even met his eyes back at Izzy's place.

Quickly pouring a cup from the pitcher he and Claire had been using, Jesse handed it over. "You need help, sitting up?"

"You just want an excuse to put your hands all over me," Ben said with a breath of a laugh, carefully tipping the glass so he could take a sip.

Jesse laughed but his eyes were unblinking and heated. "You have no idea."

A flurry of movement suddenly slid passed the hallway window: two nurses in hospital scrubs came trotting in, followed very closely by Claire, whose eyes were still a little on the wild side. They were aimed down at her phone, her thumbs darting across the slide-out board in a text to Izzy and Lucas.

"How are you feeling?" the first asked. Ben squirmed.

"Like I have a catheter." He said in a monotone, pushing himself up awkwardly before his hand found the button that made the top hospital bed rise a bit more. "Can we see about getting that taken out, please?"

"Sure," the second nurse said, giving a smile. "Y'know, you're going to leave this place known as Miracle Boy. First your feet heal, now you wake up sounding fine."

Claire's thumbs stopped moving, her eyes up from her phone. First they set on the nurse, then Ben, but very quickly moved to Jesse, a brow raised in silent questioning. Jesse's eyes widened and he gave a shrug.

Ben blinked, looking between the two of them as he asked the nurse, "What was wrong with my feet?" One nurse looked to the other, who returned the look before turning back to Ben.

"There was some sort of-malfunction with equipment. They're still looking into it. Really we don't know exactly what happened, but you weren't the only one."

Claire pointedly tried to catch Ben's eyes. When she did, she mouthed a quick '_Tell you later_'. Ben's frown deepened, but he fell silent. Whatever it was, it couldn't have simply been an "equipment malfunction" if they were calling him Miracle Boy.

* * *

><p>Even after a night of sleep in the nearest hotel, they still hadn't told him what had happened when he'd been unconscious. Ben felt the itch to ask, but it was merely background frustration to the driving need to leave. While Jesse and Claire slept, his mind had raced on, trying to piece together the overwhelming return of his memories. Already the unimportant ones seemed to be settling in his head, blurring and undefined, but one particular memory stuck out like a blaring neon sign: Lawrence. He had to get to Lawrence. If he could find the woman Dean told him about, maybe... just maybe he'd be able to find him, if for nothing else than to get the Colt. The question was, did he tell them what had happened to him?<p>

_Need to know basis, Braeden,_ he told himself. _Get the Colt. That's the only thing that matters._

Because for all that he was willing to submit to Amitiel and let the angel kill the demon that had nearly been the death of his mother and sister - nevermind the countless other vessels he had captured and warped into slaves - Ben didn't want to go. Not if there was another way. He had to try.

However, before they got back on the road, they needed to load up on perishables first. It was going to be a long drive, and hopefully one with few stops. The truck stop just before the highway entrance was just as good as any, and he volunteered to get the groceries while Claire and Jesse dealt with gas and lunch.

Outside by the pumps, Claire handed Jesse two of the three paper bags containing shredded beef tacos and fried chips that made up their lunch for the day. She sighed, squinting into the sun and tucking back her hair for the hundredth time, thanks to the highway wind.

"You know we have to tell him," she said solemnly. Her hip leaned against the GTO door, a foot away from where it was attached to a metal nozzle. The smell of gasoline was mixing sourly with Mexican food.

Jesse's expression tightened but he nodded. "I know. Kind of surprised he hasn't pressed us on it. I'm beginning to think he already knows something, the way he made us get out of there so quickly." Claire rolled her lips, and nodded.

"Something's up," she agreed quietly. What she didn't say was that the undefined clouds behind Ben's eyes were congealing in her stomach like a brick. It was going to be a long drive, but she forced herself to hope it could be used to clear the air. Her eyes set on him, quiet for a moment, before she shifted up on the toes of her boots to give him a quick, but hopefully comforting kiss.

"We'll get it sorted out." She patted his broad chest, then glanced toward the truck stop main building.

Jesse frowned but nodded. He lightly took her hand in his, eyes seeking hers. "Thanks for not yelling at me about it, as much as I deserved it."

Something in his words, but especially in his voice and eyes, cut through her deep. Her chest constricted, and she swallowed thickly.

"We all mess up, Jess," she said, her voice falling quiet and feeling painful. "And we all get scared." She knew _she_ was. Claire was terrified on a very deep, disturbed level. She didn't even realize how she was squeezing his hand, a manifestation of how hard she was working to redirect that fear into something useful. Like finding the road that _didn't_lead to disaster.

Unfortunately, she wasn't sure what to add that would make him feel better. Claire just looked down at the hand that covered hers, and lifted it to brush her lips on his knuckle. "We also love you," she added, looking up at him once again. "Sometimes that's all that matters." She offered him a hopeful smile, seeing the turmoil behind his eyes. She could relate in ways she'd never be able to explain to him.

Claire dropped his hand and backed around the GTO's hood. "Gonna brave the bathroom-be right back." It really was going to be a long drive.

Jesse watched her, his stomach turning hard. He dropped the bags into the front seat through the window, no longer anywhere near hungry. He'd known when he did the deal that he was risking himself. Only after what happened to Ben, after talking with Claire, did he realize how much danger he'd foisted on them.

There was a loud clunk, the gas pump letting him know the tank was full. With a sigh, he lifted the nozzle free and turned around to put it back. Except his vision exploded into stars, pain lancing through his temple. He fell to his knees, the world spinning in slow motion, sounds coming at him muffled as though he were underwater. He opened his mouth, trying to find the words, but something slammed into the base of his skull and everything went dark.

This truck stop bathroom was like every other side-of-the-building bathroom Claire had in memory, and smelled of moldy concrete and bleach, as well as the hint of paint fumes from the last time the owners tried to cover the graffiti on the stall doors.

The industrial strength force of the flush echoed too-loud, but at least it drowned out her thoughts for a second or two. Claire's stomach had been churning over the last three days to the point to where she would be surprised if she didn't have an ulcer. The smell of the bathroom didn't help either; as she washed her hands, she looked dubiously at her sacked lunch on the mirror counter, having forgotten to leave it in the car. Maybe she'd eat later, but definitely not sooner.

The door opened just as she was drying her hands and a pretty brunette entered, looking entirely out of place at a rest stop gas station. Her expression twisted up in distaste just at the surrounds.

"On second thought, maybe I should just hold it until I get to Richmond," she grumbled. The blond glanced her way, lips quirking slightly for her minimal reaction.

The brunette took a few steps closer to her, giving her a polite smile. "I don't suppose you have any hand sanitizer on you? I'm afraid to even touch the door knob from inside." Claire looked at the other woman a little more directly, though she didn't square her shoulders. Friendly, for someone abhorrent to the surroundings, and to a perfect stranger.

"Nope," she answered, putting an apologetic smirk on her face. She tossed the dispensed paper towel in the trash and angled back to the sink to grab the taco-sack. "Not on me, sorry-"

But then Claire felt a prick against her neck, followed by a distinct, fluid burn. She sucked in a hard breath, her hand shooting to the source of the alarming pain, and her eyes going wide. Two heartbeats was all it took; before she even had a chance to panic, someone turned the volume down on the world, and her vision tunneled.

The vibration of a noise caught in her own throat followed Claire's suddenly drunken grab for the edge of the sink when the strength in her legs gave out. Before she fell to the floor inhumanly-strong arms circled around her, holding her firmly. A muted chuckle echoed of the bathroom walls.

"Nighty-night, sweet Claire."


	34. Deleted Scene: Help I'm Alive

Everything had already been packed in the GTO for them to leave when they'd gone to the pawn shop three days ago, so there was no real point in going back to Izzy's house - in spite of her invitation. In all honesty, Ben wanted to get the hell out of Rockville and back on the road again, but Jesse and Claire both looked like they'd barely slept since he'd lost consciousness. He could spare an evening in a hotel bed for them.

Without being too picky, they drove until they saw signs for a hotel and pulled off into the parking lot. All Ben wanted was a shower and some real food, his patience teetering as he waited for Jesse to work the clerk over. Once they were in the room - the best suite in the house, because Jesse never ever scrimped - Ben made a beeline to the bathroom, shedding his clothing along the way.

It came to no surprise when he felt them follow after him. He didn't have to look back to see them; he heard the clothes falling, felt the heat of Jesse's body press against his back as Claire came in around the front, blocking the streaming jets of water from the high pressure showerhead. Through all of it they were quiet; it was very reflecting of the mood. When he made a go at getting the soap to lather up, the task was taken away from him. Ben had half a mind to protest, but the moment he felt the warm, sudsy hands on his skin, he closed his eyes and submitted. They might have been tired, but they clearly wanted him, and he was not about to deny them anything they wanted after what he'd subjected them to.

When the water finally went cold Claire turned it off, and from there they somehow made it back into the bedroom again, trailing water out through the bathroom and with them. Jesse turned Ben's head to his, taking his mouth even as he led them to the bed. Their damp bodies pulled at the duvet, but Jesse paid no mind as he guided Ben down onto his back, Claire behind him. With a last kiss, Jesse moved down to settle between Ben's legs.

Claire's fingers ran the length of his arms, sliding back up over his chest and collar bone. Tilting his face towards her she placed slow, tender kisses on his brow, then his lips. Ben let out a shuddering breath, hands moving to his knees and grasping tightly. With a fond smile, Jesse circled his hand around Ben's base before dipping down and lightly kissing his tip.

It became phenomenally harder to breathe with Claire kissing him so Ben pulled back, his breath hitching. There they were, showering him with attention, when he'd been the one to make them miserable. It should be reverse. He wanted _so badly_ to argue, but it all felt so good and it'd barely begun.

Claire wrapped her arms around his shoulders to pull him into her, perfectly content in the closeness, with her cheek pressed into his hair. Besides the gentle way her thumbs thoughtlessly brushed back and forth, she simply held him close, and tight. If that was all she did that entire night, she'd have been completely happy. Jesse, however, clearly had something else in mind.

Looking up to find his eyes, Jesse slid his lips over Ben's head, slow and deliberate as all the air emptied out of Ben's lungs. His right hand reached out and slid into Jesse's hair, tightening briefly before relaxing again as his hips canted up.

A thrill racing up his back, Jesse dipped lower before slowly pulling up again. His mouth nearly left Ben before he pushed down again, taking Ben in deeper and pulling a high, needy noise out of him. He found Claire's mouth again, his free hand moving up to twist in her hair as he kissed her deeply. Her breath stopped with the way her heart flipped, and grip tightened on him, digging shallow graves in his skin with needy fingertips.

Humming in approval at the sight, Jesse concentrated his attention lower. Tongue tracing the contours along Ben's length, Jesse gradually upped his pace, his hand twisting up to meet his lips. Ben's hips bucked in rhythm, desperate for more, the hand in Claire's hair moving to her her shoulder before he broke the kiss again.

"Lemme lie back," he said against her mouth. She nodded and breathed a little deeper, her eyes heavy with love and need. Scooting back on the bed, she braced herself on the heels of her hands placed on the bed by Ben's sides, so he could adjust his position. Ben's hands moved to her hips, his eyes a little glazed over as he looked at her.

"No, I wanna-" he licked his lips, a blush burning wildly across his cheeks. "C'mere."

He pulled her over and above him so her knees were settled on either side of his head, wasting no time sliding his tongue along her slit. Claire's thighs reflexively tensed, then she all but melted into a shuddering moan, her hot breath coiled between Ben's thighs and across Jesse's cheek. His eyes meeting hers, Jesse's mouth left Ben for a moment, just long enough to press a searing kiss to Claire's mouth. Her whine was lost against his lips.

Ben traced his way up to the top, then down again, completely avoiding her clit. His hands slid up the backs of her thighs, stroking upward to settle on her hips as he dipped his tongue into her. With a hitched breath released as a low and heady moan, her hips shifted under Ben's hands, the curve of her spine deepened, her knees twitched further apart. Jesse took the moment to pull back and take Ben again, but he couldn't quite keep his eyes off of Claire. Sliding a hand between them, he palmed her breast as he watched Ben's ministrations play out in her expressions.

Ben canted his hips up as he felt the heat of Jesse's mouth envelope him again, giving a low whine of need. His left hand slid down the curve of Claire's ass, his fingers plunging into her as he brought his mouth up to her clit at last.

Claire gasped, gripping the bedsheets. The wet heat from his mouth and slow drag of his fingers-the sensations crashed together, igniting her blood with a flush that blazed under her cheeks and everywhere they touched her. Ever the patient one, she found herself suddenly swallowed by desire. The last three days had worn her down to little more than base instinct and raw emotion, all of which could be heard in her moan, riding it low like a purr, or a growl.

The noises spurred Jesse on, fists clenched tight as Ben hit the back of his throat. He also reached between his own legs, unable to ignore the ache any longer. Ben pulled back, his fingers still thrusting, so he could take a deeper breath.

"Fuck, she's so wet, Jess," he rasped. He could feel the slow burn of impending orgasm, his hips arching harder.

Giving his own groan, Jesse let go of Claire to cup Ben's balls. His mouth slid faster, matching the pace of his hand on himself. Ben whined in response, his hand pumping harder into her, sucking Claire's clit past his lips.

"-oh,_god_," she keened in a hard breath, eyes half lidded and glossed over, set on Jesse. She watched the tension in his shoulders as he moved, the sharp definition of every muscle in his arm. Her breaths became shallow and uneven.

Humming, Jesse's cheeks hollowed as he twisted his hand around the base of Ben's cock. His own pace increased, his hips rolling into his hand. Ben moaned again, finally pulling his fingers free from Claire.

"Fuck, Jess-" he gasped. "Please. I- _please,_ I need-" He needed them both. He _wanted_ them both. "Come up here."

Pulling up, Jesse hesitated a moment, wanting to finish Ben off, but he wasn't about to ignore a request. Crawling up the bed, he peered down at Ben, once Claire - still breathing hard - sat back on her heels. She looked down the length of her body at him, a bit wild in the eyes.

"How d'you both want me?" Ben asked, his voice gritty with lust. He reached a hand over to Jesse, pulling him closer and stroking a hand up his thigh and over his hip. He kept eye contact with Claire, relishing in the blush that crept down her cheeks and pooled along her clavicle.

"S'up to you, mate."

Claire's lips quirked, her fingers brushed away a bit of wet hair from Ben's face. "You're the one that stopped us."

Ben laughed quietly, pulling his lower lip between his teeth as a flush worked through his face as well. "Don't get me wrong, enjoying the attention. Just-" His other hand slid up above his head, stroking Claire's leg. "Want more'n that." _I don't deserve all this._ "And I think..." his eyes turned to Jesse, "that it's your turn this time."

Jesse shook his head with a small smile. "The one who was last in a coma gets the most attention. That's the rule."

For all that he knew Jesse was trying to lighten the mood, Ben felt a sobering jolt to his cock. His eyes lifted to Claire's imploringly. Still flushed, she chuckled down at him, then tipped her head at Jesse. "Or gets what he wants." Hopefully 'coma rules' weren't something they had to come across more than once.

"I want you," Ben said, swallowing hard as he looked between the two of them. "Both of you."

"Then take us," she purred with a voice that matched the heated smile, sliding down to his side. Her words in that tone were just enough to put fire back into him again and Ben's hand slid down to circle around the base of his cock, stroking upward and finding it still slick from Jesse's ministrations.

"Go get the lube, Jess," he breathed. "Open me up."

Feeling an absurd little twist of jealousy, Jesse quickly hopped off the bed and stumbled to his bag. Ben turned toward Claire, his arm circling around her to turn her toward him as he found her mouth in a deep, heady kiss. A throb of weakness shot through her; a sudden, sweet surrender that closed her eyes and lightly shook her slow exhale. His hand moved to her leg, hitching it over his hip before sliding it up into her hair. Just the soft press of her skin against his was enough to pull a low hum of pleasure out of him, his cock nestled but not quite sliding in as he rutted against her.

His breath hitched as he felt Jesse's cold, wet hands sliding along his crease, circling with a gentle pressure. Gripping Ben's hip, Jesse leaned over, kissing a long line down his spine. Ben shuddered and broke away from Claire's lips with a helpless sound, hands clutching at her shoulders as he pressed into her neck.

"_Jess,_" he whimpered. "Fuck, yeah, that's-"

Jesse bit his bottom lip, watching Ben closely as he slowly, achingly slid one finger in. Coherency drained out of him as Ben screwed his eyes shut and focused on breathing, his whole body going still. No matter how many times it happened, it still left him in speechless awe. Claire couldn't help but smoothly push up against him. She matched his breath and ran her hand slowly through his hair.

Nipping at Ben's shoulder blade, Jesse drove in further, twisting to increase the stretch. Ben pulled one hand way from Claire to reach for him, grabbing uselessly at his hip and pulling him in tighter even as he pressed against Claire harder.

"_More,_" he begged. "Want you so bad, please, just _take me._"

With a quirked smile, Jesse leaned close to his ear as he slowly slid another finger in. "We're doing this right or we're not doing it at all," he teased. Ben screwed his eyes closed and whimpered again, willing his body to relax faster, every sensation throwing him into overload. He wanted to wait, to let them all settle into it together, but every instinct in his body screamed to _take take take_ and it couldn't be ignored any longer. The hand on Jesse's hip left briefly to move between him and Claire, adjusting his cock and slipping effortlessly into her. Claire felt the air leave her lungs in jagged steps. She closed her eyes, gripping at Ben's hair and holding on.

When the wave of undeniable heat ebbed, she met Jesse's gaze over Ben's shoulder. Smiling back at her, Jesse scissored his fingers as he nuzzled Ben's neck. "How does he feel, Claire? His cock spreading you wide?"

"_Uh-huh_," her groan was interrupted by a hard inhale when Ben moved against her.

It was impossible to stay still, with Claire tight around him and Jesse pressing in just right. As he pulled partly out of Claire, it forced Jesse's fingers deeper into him, and then he pressed forward again. The pleasure was all but dizzying.

"Kiss him," Ben said into Claire's neck.

With a small shiver, Jesse leaned over Ben's shoulder so he could get a better view. Claire smoothed back Ben's hair, gripping his hip with her leg and hitching up a bit higher. Over his shoulder, she caught Jesse's lips with her own, her breath melted into the kiss as a sound of approval, bubbling with need. Jesse quickly deepened it, tongue thrusting past her lips with a growl. He tried to pour some of the frustrating ache in his body into the kiss, but it only built stronger, harsher. Pulling away from Claire with a gasp, Jesse withdrew his fingers at the same time. Positioning himself at Ben's entrance, he slowly pressed in. Ben hardly had a moment to even protest.

"_Yes_," he cried, his head tipping back onto Jesse's shoulder and exposing his throat. "Oh god, oh god, yeah, take me, take me, _take me-_" Claire sank her fingers into Ben's shoulder and arm, her lips falling apart as Jesse moved him into her from behind.

Nipping at Ben's throat, Jesse sank in slow and steady until it felt as deep as he could go. "Fuck, Ben, you're so tight," Jesse breathed, his hand sliding around to Claire's ass. Ben pressed back against him harder, then ground forward against Claire, his eyes rolling before he screwed them closed and moaned wantonly. He wanted so badly to touch them both, but he was all but trapped by the weight and heat of their bodies against him as the waves of bliss rolled over him.

"Oh god, it feels so good," he said, his voice breathless and high. "Love you so much, don't stop, don't ever stop."

Breathing hard against Ben's shoulder, Claire surrendered to the sensations that swallowed her. The sounds they made, the distinct difference between the way their bodies moved, separate yet in tandem. She closed her lips on the arch of Ben's throat, her hand sliding from his shoulder to Jesse's, moving into his hair. Her leg bridged them both, curling around the back of Jesse's thigh.

Gripping Claire tight, Jesse withdrew slowly before thrusting back into Ben. He kept the pace slow and hard, each snap of his hips seeming to go deeper. He concentrated on how Ben tightened around him, the hitch in his breath, angling to try to find what drove him most wild.

In the span of the next thrust he found it, and Ben let out another wordless cry. He could feel the pleasure twisting tight in his belly and tightened his hands on Claire's shoulders again, trying to remember how to move. It took a few tries but he finally found a matching rhythm, forcing Jesse's cock even deeper into him as Ben drove into Claire.

"_Fuck_, I'm-" he keened, "Oh fuck, yeah, yeah, _yeah_-" It felt like every muscle in his body suddenly seized, pulling a strangled noise out of him as the first wave hit him.

"That's it baby-" Claire rasped, still rolling up against him using her leg's grip on Jesse (and his hold on her ass) as leverage. Her eyes clenched, every bit of her focus lasered in on the slick friction and building pressure. "_Faster, Jess_..."

Panting, Jesse obeyed, pulling Claire towards them with every thrust. His eyes rolled as Ben clenched around him, and Jesse bit his shoulder as he joined him over the edge. Claire followed a breath or two afterward, her body locked in a deep gasp that melted into a euphoric moan. She gripped at the skin and hard muscle under her hand, not knowing which of them it belonged to.

Riding the waves of their combined climax left Ben breathless and shaking as he came down. His pulse roared in his ears, muting out every sound as he fought to even out again. His head continued to rest on Jesse's shoulder.

Gulping down air, Jesse pressed in closer to Ben, his hand moving from Claire's ass up to her back to hold them tight. He closed his eyes, already drifting, though he wanted to hold onto the deep contentment settling over him like a blanket.


	35. Episode 18: Sincerest Form of Flattery

Getting groceries took surprisingly longer than he expected, and Ben found himself all but squirming as he pushed the little half-cart out through the doors and toward the car. He got all of five steps before he saw Jesse's body on the ground, curled up at an awkward angle. It felt like all the air had been squeezed out of his lungs.

"Jesse!"

The cart forgotten, Ben raced toward him, crouching down and checking immediately for a pulse. It was weaker than it should have been, staving his panic by fractions. Ben shook the older man.

"Jess, c'mon, wake up! _Wake up!_"

Head lolling, Jesse gave a groan, his face squinching up as he brought a hand up to cover his eyes. "Fuck. Light."

Ben finally took a full breath, his heart still racing as he helped Jesse sit up.

"You all right? Where's Claire?"

Pressing a hand to his temple with a wince, Jesse shook his head, looking around. "Something got me from behind. She was headed to the bathroom." He started that way before the words were out of his mouth, his steps a bit unsteady before Ben stopped him.

"You might have a concussion," Ben said with concern. "Sit down a sec. I'll go check."

Jesse waved him off as he firmly walked towards the bathroom. "It'll pass." He had to find Claire first; then they could worry about what had just happened to him.

Ben scowled slightly in frustration as he followed a few steps behind, his hand within reach of both his gun in his side holster and the flask of holy water strapped to his thigh. The two men moved into the women's bathroom within moments of each other, but the found it empty.

Jesse checked the two stalls, twice. _Not good, not good, not good._ His eyes stopped on the floor, feeling his stomach drop. He squatted down, opening the white take-out bag. "Shit. This was her lunch."

Ben was out the door before Jesse even finished his sentence, running at full tilt back toward the shopping mart. Both places were small, and in both cases he shouted out Claire's name, but there was no trace of her. The panic started flooding him again as he rushed back out, cellphone in hand and dialing Claire's number. It rang four times, going straight to voicemail.

"No. No, no, no, no, no- _Fuck!_"

When he got back to the car, he found Jesse leaning over the passenger seat, digging ferociously through his bag. He jerked back when he spotted Ben, getting to his feet. He didn't need to ask if he'd found her.

"I...I think I know who got her. The demon." Jesse's face was pale.

Ben threw his fist into the side of the GTO with all the force of a battering ram, his hands fisting up into his hair as he curled into himself.

"_Fuck, fuck, fuck!_" he shouted, the pain from his hand barely registering through the throes of his panic. He could feel himself hyperventilating as he quickly turned, grabbed the bags of food from the abandoned cart and threw them precariously into the back seat of the car.

"We gotta go, we gotta go-"

Jesse set a shaking hand on his shoulder, his eyes round. "We don't know where to go. We can't just-"

"THE HELL WE CAN'T!" Ben exploded. He was literally trembling with rage and fear. "We get on the phones, we call everyone we know, we fucking _drive_ as _fast as we can_. It can't have ridden her out, so they're on the road, and they've only got a twenty minute head-start at best, so _get in the fucking car!_"

"We don't know which way!" Jesse's voice hitched. "Just- Just stop a minute, I'll talk to someone who can help us."

"Either get in the car," Ben said, his voice suddenly dropping in volume to barely above a growl, "or I'm leaving your ass here."

Jesse took his shoulders, swallowing hard as he met his eyes. "If you go in the wrong direction, it's only going to make it harder. Either way, you're not driving like this."

The fact that Jesse was being so calm and collected about what was happening only seemed to infuriate Ben even more. He threw Jesse's arms off him roughly, jabbing the keys into the trunk and opening it before he managed to find the box containing their fake IDs. Grabbing the first one that looked like a badge, he turned around and booked it back toward the shopping mart.

Trying not to feel hurt, Jesse slid into the car, shutting the door behind him. Closing his eyes, he said, "Ruth, I really, _really_ need you right now. C-can you come?"

He'd barely finished the thought before the blond materialized behind him, her pale eyes wide with confusion and shock.

"Has something else-" she stopped herself before she finished, looking around the car.

_[ No no no no not here not here not supposed to be here too close too close - ]_

Jesse instinctively grabbed her arm. "Too close to what?" he snapped, harsher than he meant to be. She froze up like a rabbit in his grasp, her eyes nearly the size of saucers. The anxiety and fear radiated off of her.

"People here. Too many people, and hunters."

"The hunters are my friends, they won't hurt you," he said firmly. "But one of them got taken, by a demon. Do you know anything about that? Can you- Can you sense him?"

_[ Not him not him not him not him ]_

"No," she breathed out, still tense. "Nothing here now. Remnants, but not him." The remaining color in her face faded. "Wouldn't come if he were here."

_[ He'd kill me stone dead can't let him find me can't let them find me don't wanna die but I would if you wanted me to ]_

"I'm not asking you to die for me," he said firmly, already feeling the headiness that came with her emotions rushing at him. "Just, he took my friend, Ruth. They're going to hurt her. Can you help me find her? Is there any place around here they might go?"

"Not here-" _[ Too many people ]_ "-the nearest place is gone-" _[ burning burning so many dead screaming without sound ]_ "-two months now, at least." _[ so much confusion flames leaping higher angels coming run run run get away while the watchers are gone ]_ "The only places I've ever known were Nursery and Academy." _[ Clifton Clifton Clifton don't go there don't go back stay away run run run run run- ]_

Her panic caught in his throat and for a moment he forgot to breathe. "Nowhere? It could be farther away. They'd have to drive. Just give me a direction, that's all I need."

The girl shuddered like a leaf, then suddenly her head turned sharply to the left and she sucked in a harsh breath.

"Let me go-"

_[ No no no no no he's coming he's coming run run run get away have to run have to run can't let him see me run run run- ]_

"Tell me where I should go and I'll let you," Jesse said, his expression hard.

For the first time since he grabbed her, she pulled against him, her eyes growing bright with fearful tears.

_[ No no no no no no no- ]_ the words continued on like a beat beneath her rushed words, encompassed in her fear.

"_Please,_ Jess-" she pleaded. "I don't know. I don't know. Haven't seen it-"

_[ too fast like lightning never strikes in the same place twice race across the continent then hides she'll find me too he'll find me they'll find me can't let them find me gotta run gotta run can't stay wanna stay love you love you love you ]_

Then her words rang with her power, made strong with her terror: "Let me go!"

The words brushed over him like a spider's web. His grip tightened on her arm. He could feel the fear coursing through her, but that didn't matter. They had to find Claire. "Tell me which way to go!"

"I don't know!" she wailed.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ben's form could be seen racing back to the car at full speed.

Jesse's expression twisted but he finally let her go. "Fine."

She was gone again in less than an eyeblink. Ben threw the car door open, his expression no less strained than when he'd ran off.

"Who-"

"Ruth," Jesse said shortly, not looking at him. He felt ill. "She healed your feet before. I thought she could help. I was wrong."

Ben shoved the keys into the ignition and twisted them hard, the car roaring to life. He didn't even bother explaining himself as he gunned off through the shopping mart exit, the tires squealing from the sudden displacement.

"I can't even handle that right now, man," Ben said in a rush.

Shifting away from him, Jesse leaned on his hand, staring out the window. _Useless and a bully, great._ He had one more person - thing - he wanted to talk to, but he had a feeling Ben wouldn't take it any better if he asked to go chat with the demon that had snatched Claire.

"It was a man and a woman," the younger man continued on, eyes glues on the road ahead of them. He didn't even signal as he got onto the highway entrance and crossed three lanes into the fast lane. Two different cars blared their horns at him. "They drove off in a police cruiser. Get on the line and call Lucas so we can see if he can activate the GPS in her phone."

Nodding and feeling foolish for not having thought of it himself, Jesse pulled out his phone and started dialing.

* * *

><p>Consciousness didn't come back for Claire all at once. Like a slow tide rolling in, the first thing she was even remotely aware of was movement. The subtle lean in her equilibrium as well as the vibration of an engine and an uneven road paved the way to the opening up of the sounds that surrounded her. A distant song played on a radio, turned down. Other cars rushed by.<p>

For an instant, she automatically assumed she was just laying down in the back of the GTO, but the next second, the dull ache in the side of her neck triggered the memory of its sharp origin. A body had pressed against her from behind in the truck stop bathroom, pinned her to the sink and jabbed something sharp and burning into her neck.

Claire opened her eyes and tried to suck in a breath, but it only collapsed the duct tape across her lips. Her hands twitched hard against the plastic zip tie that kept them together at her back. Full consciousness set in, finally, with a flood of barely suppressed panic on its heels.

"All right there, sweetheart?" came the tall, English vowels of the driver. A slim hand rose to adjust the rearview mirror in her direction, green eyes catching her form before wrinkling in the corners. "Sorry for the precautions, but I had to be sure you didn't try and end the party early."

_That voice_ put a proverbial pick of ice into the back of Claire's skull. Wide-eyed, she glared through the wire mesh that separated her from the front seat of what was obviously a police cruiser, onto the back of the driver's head, then into the mirror. _Not happening not happening not happening_, the only cognitive thought that rushed through her head in those first few moments, all until the sharp ache in her shoulders brought her back to reality.

It _was_ happening. A darted look around the back seat showed she was alone. Ben and Jesse- where were they? Were they jumped? _Where they dead_? No. Claire's eyes closed tight, her nostrils flaring with breath above the tape. She refused to entertain the thought, and blocked it out by grunting in effort, slamming her feet against the door.

"I never thought you were going to leave that blasted hospital," the demon continued on, sounding both bored and annoyed. "And when the lot of you warded that hotel room the night you finally left - Lord, that was a pain in my side. But I finally gotcha. It's only too bad I couldn't ride you out, that would make this whole mess _so_ much faster. It'll be at least two days before we can get where we need to." Her red-painted lips upturned in a slow smile. "Unfortunately that means no bathroom breaks and no food or water. That's the trouble with tight schedules, though."

The only sign that Claire was listening - however badly she didn't want to - was a slight hesitation between hard, desperate kicks. The hair in her eyes barely masked the swirl of emotion, laced by equal parts rage and apprehension.

Two days. She had two days to get out, get away, get _back_. Though it hadn't been spelled out, on some deep level of understanding, Claire knew what the destination at the end of this 'trip' meant. The British demon in the driver's seat had tried it before.

Claire gritted something foul into the tape, and kicked at the door again. Visions of mindless slaves - vessels - with scars around their ears came back like nightmares, fueling the power she put into her legs. If she was going to get out, it was going to be in the first day, while she was still strong-before the impending starvation and thirst had a chance to do its work.

The demon sighed loudly. "Honestly, you're only going to hurt yourself doing that. Don't waste your energy. They've made quite a few improvements on these vehicles since I was last here; you're not about to get out anytime soon."

In the back of her mind, Claire knew the demon was right, but she gave the handle one last good kick anyway. Her chest heaved, not from spent energy so much as everything else. She'd let her guard down. She hadn't been watching. _She was waiting. The whole time, she was waiting._ Claire let her head fall back against the lower arm rest, hard plastic that smelled like oil and Lysol. Her eyes started to burn from behind.

"That's it." The demon chuckled, drumming her fingers on the wheel. "We're almost through West Virginia now. I'll call out the states we go through so you're not left _too_ bored."

The hunter in the back glared razor blades at the rear view mirror, her jaw set like granite. Ignoring the pull to her shoulders, Claire tensed and angled herself more square to the driver's seat, coiled up, and slammed her boots against the wire set barely an inch from the woman's head. The car swerved slightly from the contact, but the demon only laughed louder.

"So feisty. I can see why my master was so adamant we take you; you'll give us a definite upper hand in the future."

_The fuck I will_, was Claire's automatic answer, but it dissolved into the duct tape. She took her frustration out with yet another kick, and a snarl that scraped deep in her throat. This 'Master' could only be that gray-eyed demon that attached himself to Jesse in Maine, who was _still_ manipulating him. Again, her thoughts shot straight to both of them-Jesse and Ben.

_I'm so sorry_, she thought automatically, again shutting her eyes as her feet fell down to the floor. Claire sat up and leaned toward the door, scraping her cheek on the window. Maybe she could catch a corner of the tape and peel it off.

* * *

><p>The conversation with Lucas had been a short and painful one. It was hard not to go into details about what happened, but with Jesse uncharacteristically quiet in the seat, Ben had no other choice but to direct the flow of conversation. It was going to take at least twenty minutes for the man in Las Vegas to hack into the system and activate the GPS in Claire's phone.<p>

Assuming, of course, that it hadn't been disposed of. Claire normally kept the phone on silence unless she was expecting a call, and even then there was no guarantee that the demon who had snatched her hadn't frisked her.

While they were waiting for Luke's call, Ben had called Izzy and asked her to send out feelers through her connections. It was a wide net, but there was no guarantee anyone would bite or even make the effort to go looking for her. There was, however, at least one hunter who would no doubt drop what she was doing and search about as hard as they were planning to. Ben felt his chest constrict as he thumbed the number from the contact rolladex. It rang twice before there was an answer:

"_Shaggy. To what do I owe the pleasure?_"

Just hearing Kat's voice was enough to make Ben's stomach twist a little harder.

"Where are ya, Kat?"

"_Illinois. Why, what's wrong?_"

Ben took a breath, then let it out.

"Claire's been snatched."

"_What-?_"

"We were at a rest stop, just getting onto 270-"

"_How the hell did this happen!_" came the snarl on the other end of the line. Kat's volume had risen considerably. Most likely she'd had to get away from whatever company she'd found herself part of in order to yell at him properly. Ben swallowed around the knot in his throat.

"We're chasin' after her-"

"_That right? You know where she was taken?_"

"No."

"_So you could be chasin' a ghost for all you know!_"

"Kat, I called Lucas and he's working on it."

"_Shut up. You find a hotel and you park right now. You do this right, boy. Driving all night ain't gonna do you anything aside from waste your gas and leave you high and dry. Who took her?_"

Ben flipped the turn signal to get into the exit lane, his body moving on automatic. Misery saturated every part of him. Jesse sat up, looking at Ben for the first time in miles but not saying anything.

"We're thinkin' a demon we've been tracking for a while. He was behind my sister getting snatched a couple months back."

"_Do you know the demon's name?_"

Ben nodded even though she couldn't see him. "Belial," he breathed. That got a frown from Jesse. "Or Abbey. Abbey's another demon working for him."

"_What's the threat level? Maybe you could summon one, pin it down and make it talk._"

Ben shook his head unnecessarily again. Belial would kill him the moment he laid eyes on him. Abbey, though-

"Could maybe get Abbey, if that's even her real name. But I've never done a summoning before."

The huntress gave a humorless laugh. "_That's the smartest thing you've said all day, Shaggy. I'll text you the spell and the supply list, but you're on your own for tracking them down. Just make sure you lay down a devil's trap before you start. Can't have you getting killed._"

The line beeped an incoming call and a quick glance showed Luke's name on the faceplate.

"Gotta go, that's Luke. Call ya in an hour."

Lucas didn't even bother saying hello. "_Got a lock on her phone. It's not far from you, though you overshot it a bit. You'll want to turn back around on 270 and get off headed southwest on highway 109, or Old Hundred Road. After that, it gets a bit complicated. You got a GPS?_"

Ben angled the question - "Jess, can you pull up your GPS?" - away from the phone before replying to Lucas: "Is it moving?"

Jesse immediately had his phone out, and Ben thumbed on the speaker option before sipping it into the dashboard dock.

"_No, it's been still long as I've been looking at it. Ready? Latitude, 39.227599144403285. Longitude, -77.40692138671875._"

Lucas recited the numbers slowly, and once they were typed into Jesse's phone the device gave a little jingling-beep to tell them it had been accepted before spitting out directions.

"Thanks, Luke," Ben said. His expression was tight. "While I got ya, there's one other thing I need you to do, if you can. I know we're askin' a hell of a lot from ya lately-"

"_Shut up, man, it's what I do,_" Lucas said softly. "_And if there's anything I can do to help you get back Claire, I'll do it._"

Ben felt a flicker of relief deep beneath the heavy weight of his worry for Claire. "Thanks, man. Okay, so... we're pretty sure it's demons who took her. And I think since they're driving, there's gonna be activity along a path leading somewhere. Checkpoints at gas stations, y'know? If you could maybe start checking for that, and get some of your contacts on the line that might be in the area..."

There was a hitch of breath and silence before Lucas said, "_Okay. I'll get the word out. Can't say it will be very helpful, because it's a bit of a long shot, but I guess we thrive on those._"

"Any trail is better than chasing ghosts," Ben replied, borrowing Kat's angry words. "Thank you, Luke. For everything."

"_No problem, man. You need anything or find anything, give me a call, alright?_"

"Will do. End call," Ben spoke. The line went silent, and Ben's foot pressed a little harder on the pedal as they headed off in the directions the GPS sent them in.

It was a while before Jesse spoke up, cautiously. "What is 'Belial'?"

Ben visibly tensed up a little. "That's his name. The lead demon."

Jesse hissed in a breath, looking over at him. "_The_ demon? How did you find that out?"

Ben kept his eyes pointed forward, the tension never leaving his frame. "An angel told me."

"When did you talk to an angel?" Jesse said, half snapping, half fearful. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Oh yeah, because I've had a lot of time to talk about what just happened to me!" Ben shouted back at him.

Jesse flinched. "I wasn't... When?"

"It doesn't matter," the younger man growled out. They were getting closer to the coordinates Luke had given them.

Quiet as he watched out the window, Jesse bit his lip hard. He couldn't hold it back, though. "Were they after me?"

"No," Ben said shortly. "He was making sure I transitioned through my coma." Apparently the henna tattoo didn't prevent his mind from being invaded.

That got another sharp look from Jesse. "Why?"

Ben kept his eyes on the road, looking for some sign of Claire. The roadside was nearly empty, but there was no sign of any buildings. Cold dread filled him. _Please don't let her be in a ditch. God, please, I'll do anything._

"I don't know," came the distant reply.

Jesse pursed his lips but didn't say anything, looking at his cell phone. "Here, mate, stop."

Ben pulled over sharply, breaking so hard that they both jerked forward. He threw the door open and leapt out of the car.

"Claire!"

Yanking on the parking break, Jesse hopped out, looking around then back down at the phone. It said right there, but there was nothing. No place for them to hide Claire. His stomach rolled and he started kicking through the grass off the embankment. Not three steps in, he crossed over a set of tire tracks in the mud. Someone had obviously skidded off the road, stopped sharp, then peeled off in the same direction.

The sun glinted off something caked in dirt just inside the disturbed glass line. A foot beyond it, a large patch of weeds had been disturbed, flattened by a scuffle.

"Ben!" Jesse yelled, snatching up the cellphone. He wiped off the dirt, feeling sick. It was Claire's. Ben was at his side in three long strides, his face still pale in spite of not finding Claire dead in a ditch.

"C'mon," he said, his voice low as he turned and headed back for the car. It was back on Lucas to find them a trail.

* * *

><p>It'd taken an forever to discreetly pry up a tiny corner of the tape over her lips, without the sharp eyes in the cruiser's rear view mirror catching on. Claire sat slumped in the hard plastic back seat, most of her face purposefully hidden by her hair. She moved achingly slow, drawing the side of her cheek on the seat only a little at a time. Bit by bit, the tape released more of her skin, then the corner of her lips.<p>

She had to fight her own impulse to do it any faster, even concentrating on the deep burn in her shoulder joints from their unrelenting strain. It got more difficult as the time and the miles rolled on, but eventually, she was able to move her lips-and speak. On her first breath, she wasted no time.

"_Exorcizamus te,_" Claire whispered through her teeth just under her breath, and staring through her hair at the back of the demon's head. "_Omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas-_"

The car screeched to a sudden stop. If they'd been on the high way, no doubt there would have been an accident, but Claire had noticed that they were taking the back roads in the midst of her slow process. The force of the sudden breaking sent her lurching forward, her head knocking hard against the grating. With a hard grunt, pain shot through her temple as skin scraped on the mesh. A warm tickle crawled down her brow bone and across her cheek, smearing as she braced a foot on the back of the seat.

"_Omnis incursio infernalis adversarii!_" There was no reason to hide it now. Claire's voice was harsh and growled with hatred-the incantation picking up speed. "_Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica!_"

The door was thrown open, and moments later hers was also. Before she even had a chance to react, the demon yanked her out of the car by her hair, then slammed her head against the metal corner near the glass with significant force.

The next thing she knew was the smell of apple pie.

Claire opened her eyes; they widened as the familiar beige and maroon decor of her grandmother's kitchen came into focus. There was no squad car, no demon; her hands weren't wretched behind her back, but comfortably set on the formica table on which she remembered eating Cheerios with banana slices every Saturday morning until she was ten. The sound of the evening news played in the background, filtering through the warm autumn sunlight that lit the curtains over the sink.

Claire sat back against the chair, breathing in the comfort of fruit and cinnamon and her grandfather's cigar, trying to figure out if she'd just kicked off. That's when she noticed the slender figure in the corner of her eye, standing by the oven.

"Hello, Claire."

The angel's presence was soothing and familiar, taking the shape of the same woman she'd seen in Indiana, then again in Chackbay.

"Kadiel." Claire knew the voice better than the face. Seeing her supposed guardian did not calm the inkling that she was dead. She stared at the angel, unblinking and expectant. "...why are we here?"

"The henna mark you put on yourself has blocked my ability to find you," Kadiel answered gently, moving around to sit at the table. Her slender, long-fingered hands moved across the tabletop and took hers, her skin cool to the touch. "I sensed your distress. I had to wait until you weren't conscious to contact you."

Claire swallowed, watching the connection between their hands. The sigils she spoke of weren't for hiding from Kadiel-but from another. She looked up to the other woman's warm, brown eyes, wondering how much she had to do with that particularly hellish fiasco. But the phrase 'weren't conscious' rang a few bells in her head. It was sobering, remembering where her actual body was at the moment. Amitiel's dream could wait.

"You know where they're taking me?"

"No." There was genuine concern and pity in her eyes. "The demon orchestrating this is very old, and very clever. He's made at least a dozen different locations not too unlike whichever one he's taking you to. I have no idea which one, and I'm not even certain how many of them are decoys. The very way he's blockaded them forces our eyes away, so we are only given a vague generalization of where."

Claire's shoulders fell a little, but she didn't take her eyes off Kadiel. So much for her first knee-jerk hope that she could warn the boys. Her lips twitched, _almost_ asking if they were alright. Then, she remembered the moment in Chackbay-the angel's reaction to Jesse.

She rolled her lips instead, looking around the warmth of their surroundings. "Not that I don't appreciate the little vacation," Claire's voice was honest, but strained. "But why contact me if you don't know where they're going with me?"

Kadiel's chest rose and fell, an unnecessary movement, but one showing the angel's inner struggle.

"Because you are the only eyes we have." She swallowed. "You must be strong, Claire. They won't let you escape easily. I would be able to join with you were you not blocked and you were willing to accept me, but that option isn't on the table. I know your heart isn't ready."

The words had a familiar ring to them that soured in Claire's stomach, but not the way it had in Amitiel's vision. This had the taint of guilt to it, and she wasn't sure why.

"So what _is_ on the table," she asked quietly, opting to forgo going too deep into that guilt. There were more pressing matters. She could see it in the woman's eyes.

"If you are able to get into their stronghold, to survive and pull away long enough to tell us where they are, we could shake them all the way down to their very foundation." The angel's voice took on a stronger tone. "The blockade would fall. Our cherubim would be able to find the abominations. This war would dissolve before it even started."

Claire was quiet, locked in the angel's gaze and her own thoughts. Her heart leapt at the chance to diffuse the memories of the future in her head, at the option of a different path than the other angel ever suggested. Her shoulders shifted, a deep breath inflated her chest, then she slowly let it out.

"Guess if I'm going there anyway," she muttered, humorlessly and more to herself than anything. Her blue eyes fell back to the table top. "What do I have to do?"

"You must let them lead you to the lion's den," Kadiel told her.

Claire's brows arched slowly. "And then?"

"And then find a way to escape." Her eyes were deep with concern. "If you are able to break the sigil on yourself somehow, I will be able to aide you, but only once you are outside of the blockade."

Again, Claire went quiet, her eyes focused on nothing in particular, somewhere in the space between them. The demon that had nearly pulled her arm out of its socket back in Maine clearly had a similar intention this time around. At least a dozen locations... all of them hidden. _I can see why my master was so adamant we take you_. Claire moved her hand from the table to wipe at her face. Her stomach twisted as her thoughts pieced together.

"They're taking me to be with the other vessels, aren't they."

There was a stretch of silence, and then a soft, "Yes." Claire closed her eyes.

"I had that feeling..." She let her voice trail off, since there wasn't much else she could say. Two days in the back of a cop car without food or water was going to be the least of her worries. And even if she somehow escaped en route, the problem still existed.

And it wasn't going to get better.

"Any advice?" Claire asked with an almost breathless laugh that contained no humor. It was nervous, and matched the watery look in her eyes when they set on Kadiel once again-frightened, but flying in the face of that fact. The angel squeezed her hands and didn't let go.

"Have faith." The angel gave her a faint smile, her eyes filled with hope and confidence. "The pieces are falling into place. It will not be easy, but we will prevail. _You_ will prevail."

Kadiel's final sentence echoed in Claire's subconscious as it faded from the bright comfort of her memory, back into the darkness and ache of her _reality_. She was in the back of the cruiser again, a new layer of tape around her mouth (and around her head, bunching and pulling at her hair). The smell of blood caked across her cheek rivaled that of the plastic seat.

She rolled stiffly so that the roof of the car filtered into her gaze, between the white sparks of a mild concussion. Beneath her, all ten fingertips had gone numb from the pinch.

"Next time you try anything, I'll crash the car and leave you to burn alive in the wreckage," the demon hissed out. "You _are_ replaceable. The only reason you're even alive is because my master likes you. Be thankful of that."

Among the many words that could've - and did - come to Claire's mind, one stuck out the most: _Irony_.

She closed her eyes and fought the sick feeling in her gut that went with the stabbing light of passing headlights. Puking into a gag would be almost as desirable as burning to death in a wreck.

Claire was quiet after that, shifting only enough to get the blood back to her fingers and if at all possible, attempt to sleep. She wanted to go back to her grandmother's kitchen, whether Kadiel was there with more words of encouragement or not. She wanted to smell that apple pie and the hint of cigar, but most of all-she wanted Ben and Jesse to be there waiting.

* * *

><p>Ben seemed to be trying to make up for not knowing where they were going by driving there as fast as he could. Jesse didn't comment. It wasn't like he was any help, and it least they had a general direction.<p>

He'd fallen into silence, hardly saying two words the whole trip. There was one more thing he could do, one more person-thing he could talk to. He didn't think Claire would approve, but that didn't matter as much as getting her back.

The only problem was Ben. Jesse immediately dismissed the idea of just popping out to see the demon without saying anything. He didn't know how long he would be, and Ben was panicking enough. If he told Ben everything, though, that might not lessen the panic any. He might even try to stop Jesse from going. To be honest, he was nervous about trying to come back to a moving car again. If they could stop, just for a half hour or so, he could chase the demon down.

As if hearing his thoughts, Ben pulled off the next exit, turning into a gas station.

"What's wrong?" Jesse said quickly.

"Running on fumes," Ben muttered, his voice low and tired as he pushed the door open and slid through it. "Gotta fill up, drain out and caffeinate. I'll be back in fifteen."

"Wait." Jesse's voice was sharper than he meant, his throat seizing in a panic. He tried to swallow. "I...I have to tell you something. There's-there's someone else I could talk to about finding Claire."

Ben stopped at the other side the door, slouching to look in through the open window. He looked at Jesse with dark circles under his eyes, exhausted but expectant.

Jesse focused on the windshield as he said quietly, "I could go talk to the demon."

"How?" Ben countered, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Jesse still didn't look at him. "It's complicated. And I'll tell you everything later. Just...now we should find Claire. And I know where to find the demon."

Ben shook his head. "It's too risky." He swallowed hard, his eyes briefly dropping and his voice cracking, "Claire wouldn't want that." He moved around to the car, swiping his card through the reader before lifting the nozzle and pushing it into the gas socket. Flipping up the latch so it auto-filled, he said, "We'll get the supplies to summon Abbey first thing in the morning when the shops open."

Sinking lower in his chair, Jesse practically whispered, "He won't hurt me. It'll be safe. We can get Abbey in the morning either way, I just..."

Ben stared at him through the passenger window, his expression dark and unreadable before he finally spoke: "Why are you even asking me? I thought you did whatever you wanted?"

Jesse's lips parted but nothing came out. It felt like everything inside him had turned to stone and he was just waiting for his skin to follow suit. Eyes dropping to his knees, he stayed silent. Ben returned the silence, straightening up. He licked his lips and took a breath to speak, but simply dropped his head and shook it, then turned in the direction of the little gas station's storefront. Jesse waited until the door closed behind Ben before wiping at his eyes. That was exactly it, wasn't it? He did whatever he wanted without thinking, and now it led to Ben in a coma and Claire getting kidnapped. All because he was too damn selfish. And right now he wanted to go after that demon, almost more than anything in the world.

But not more than he loved Ben.

Sniffing hard and wiping his eyes one more time, Jesse was still there when Ben got back.

* * *

><p>It was dark again when Claire woke with a startled muffle into the tape around her mouth, jarred back into consciousness by a noise so loud, her first panicked thought was <em>crash<em>. But she wasn't suddenly engulfed in spilled gasoline or flames. There was moisture in the air, in the wind that pushed through the cruiser, since something had opened the door. It was raining sheets, and the loud noise had been a peal of thunder.

Strong arms grabbed her around the middle, throwing her over a tall shoulder before steadily marching through the rain. In less than ten wide steps they were under cover again, the doors thrown open by an unknown force. Even as she was taken inside, distant screams of pain met her ears.

"Took you long enough," a gruff male voice called out.

"They were in Maryland. I got back as fast as I could."

"Whatever," came the sharp retort. "Stick her in processing with the others."

The enslaved vessel delayed only a moment before moving off again. Claire could feel every step taken beneath her like separate punches to the gut. The water in her hair, even mixed with dried blood, was its own form of torment; it'd been almost two days, maybe more from what she could tell. Her throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper, and the hunger pangs had started to spread into her joints.

But all she could do was steel her stomach with each step. Her eyes were wide under the veil of hair, finding every detail she could.

_Six steps to a corner. A hallway-with doors. Doors at measured increments. ...four, five, six-_ Another scream muddled by the walls interrupted her thinking. For the moment, Claire closed her eyes and bit back the wave of nausea that came with it.

They traveled down another hallway, down a flight of stairs, and four doors over before the vessel stopped. The door was opened, and Claire unceremoniously dumped inside it. The horrible stench of unwashed skin and waste rushed toward her as the door was firmly shut and locked from the outside. Never before had she been so thankful for the sharp crack of her hip and shoulder on the hard floor; the pain was good and distracting, because she had never wanted to throw up so badly in her entire life.

It took a while before she could do anything besides force herself to breathe. When the waves finally started to pass, Claire rolled stiffly onto both knees and sat back on her heels. The movement cut the plastic tie around her wrists into the grooves it'd already worked into her skin. Warmth seeped into her palm after a sharp pinch that let her know the wound was open again. It barely registered.

Her concentration was fixed on the sound of movement and breathing not too far off.

"Fuck, we could have gone for it," a male voice uttered, but a woman cut him off.

"Shut up, they'll hear you."

"Let 'em hear!" he snarled. "What else are they gonna do other than kill me! Fucking _do it already_, you cowards! It stinks like a sewer in here! Don't you know what long-term exposure to methane gas'll do to a person!"

Claire tried to shake the hair out of her eyes, but the movement made the room spin. She was still concussed; even the very dim light of what was apparently a storage room scraped at the back of her eyes. They closed for another moment; her head hung heavy between her shoulders.

_Get up._ The thought echoed faintly through her mind, riding diminishing waves of weakness. Claire clenched her hands into fists and gnashed her teeth, then rolled her shoulders back with enough momentum to get to her feet, where she wavered. Breaths from the effort cut through her nose, flaring her nostrils.

"Open the fucking door!"

"David, _shut your damn mouth!_" another man cried.

The man called David only shouted louder. "OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!"

"New girl, if you have any strength in you at all, can you please kick David in the stupid balls so he'll shut the hell up before he gets them to come back?" the second man snarled out. "I'd do it myself, but my ankle is busted."

Someone in the room started crying. The sounds behind Claire had been as ominous as the stench, and just as heavy. Even after her equilibrium returned, she'd been reluctant to turn around.

Swallowing the taste of bile in an already rancid throat, her boots scuffed the dirty floor as she slowly whirled to face the other prisoners. A handful of them, filthy and in various states of obvious abuse. Claire's eyes briefly dulled before she blinked the sting away.

"Jesus, they duct-taped her mouth!" David gasped, his voice taking on a tone of renewed outrage. The only light coming into the room was from the crack beneath the door, but apparently the occupants were well used to it by now.

"Shut up and help her, you idiot!" the woman from earlier commanded. David limped forward, leaning in close.

"Sorry, I just-" he shrugged his shoulders and gave her a wane smile, then lipped at the corner of the duct-tape on her mouth until he caught it in his teeth. Claire closed her eyes against the second horrendous churn in her stomach with the disturbed air that surrounded him; she bore down on her tongue with her teeth to keep the sick feeling in check until he pulled back. She turned away to help; the gritty noise in her throat was a direct result of bits of skin and hair leaving with the tape.

Not even a breath later, Claire half-stepped back and crumpled against the wall, heaving up the contents of her stomach-which was barely enough to spit.

"If you could kindly direct your vomit to the far left corner-"

"David, so help me God, if you say ANOTHER WORD-" the woman cried out shrilly.

"Everyone just _shut up!_"

That voice belonged to someone much younger. On cue, the room went dead quiet, save for the quiet crying. Claire spit the bad taste out of her mouth, simply content to breathe without having to suffer the smell for a moment, but the youthful voice that was still echoing in her ears was very sobering.

"You don't want the silence," Claire finally muttered, her voice hoarse and burning in her throat. "_They_ do." Her eyes were adjusting better; they swept the hobbled, broken figures against the wall, finally settling on David. He was obviously the latest one before her. He had the life in his eyes the others had started to lose.

The younger voice belonged to a girl who might have just hit puberty. She leaned against another girl - the one who was sobbing quietly. The injured man sat midway between the right wall, his leg propped up on what appeared to be a busted up coffee can, its contents long-since gone. A woman sat next to him, her fair hair dirty and mussed with her face against her knees. On the opposite wall was another woman, the coffee-colored skin of her legs mottled with deep bruises.

"What d'you mean, they want the silence?" David pressed, the whites of his eyes unnaturally bright in comparison to his dark complexion.

Claire swallowed hard. She had the unfair advantage of having seen the end result to this assembly-line torment. She just hadn't anticipated having to explain it to a group who'd already started living it-who she doubted she'd be able to save.

"Because of your bloodline, they brought you here to break you," she continued on slowly, pressing her back to the wall to take the strain off her shoulders. Her wrists were still bleeding fresh every time she moved her hands. "They want you as slaves; the ones they're able to get to that point-they don't hear. They don't speak. I've seen it."

A heavy silence fell by the time Claire finished speaking. Then the woman on the left wall also started to cry, her voice breaking as she started speaking a long string of Spanish: "_Padre nuestro, que estás en el cielo. Santificado sea tu nombre. Venga tu reino. Hágase tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo-_"

"How?" David pressed, taking a step closer. "How do you know? There's others that speak; maybe they just don't because there's nothing worth sayin'-"

Claire watched him for something solid to keep her focus, but she didn't answer immediately. How could she? _Because I do_ just didn't seem like an answer that would satisfy any of them. She sighed quietly, keeping David's shadowed features in her gaze.

"I've been hunting these 'others' for almost ten years."

Before she could add more, the door suddenly opened again. The same tall vessel who had carried Claire in entered, and everyone - including David - pulled back. The crying girl openly sobbed. But it was the woman speaking Spanish that the vessel went for, hefting her up bodily by her right arm. She fought back as brutally as she could, digging her heels into the floor.

"_No, por favor, ten piedad!_" she begged, her voice high and gasping as she shook her head violently, but the vessel remained oblivious and simply moved to lift her over his shoulder. "_¡Por favor! Dios, sálvame!_"

Claire's stomach lurched as a million urges shot through her brain; a fight instinct that combined with compassion and pride flared in her veins, and she stiffened, coiled before the strike. But she was weak, dizzy, and nearly blinded by the light that spilled in from the open door. Before she knew it, the silent vessel slammed his hand into her shoulder when she got too close. David, then the wall stopped her fall before the door pulled shut. Terrified Spanish faded into the distance.

She'd only felt so helpless and useless one other time in her life: the day she found her mother in the bathtub.

"Her name was Maite," the young woman said quietly. "She'd been here the longest."

Claire struggled to right herself on her knees; the force of the fall had every joint in her body burning with ache, and the darkness in the room was spinning. She closed her eyes against it, hanging heavily over her lap.

"Assist Maite, O Lord our God," Claire's voice was weak and tight with breath, but spilled a prayer she'd known since before she was tall enough to reach for the Bible on her father's desk. "-and defend her evermore by the might of Thy Holy Cross in whose honor Thou makest us rejoice... In Christ, our Lord, Amen." She pulled in a hard breath, forcing the burn of tears back down her throat, and started reciting the plead for protection again.

The two girls' voices joined in where they sat, the girl on the left's words broken occasionally with sobs. Midway through, the injured man added his voice to the prayer. By the time Claire started the third repeating, even David was praying along.

* * *

><p>Sleep was impossible, at least for him. Jesse stood in the middle of the hotel room, staring down at Ben's naked form curled on the bed. He had his back to Jesse. All Jesse wanted to do was go on a walk, but he couldn't without Ben. He walked around to the other side of the bed to face him, but Ben's back was to him again. He walked quickly back, and again, but no matter where he moved or how fast, Ben always had his back to him.<p>

He heard the click of the door latch and spun around just in time to see long, blond hair disappear through.

"Claire!" he shouted, sprinting through the door and right into thick woods. He caught another glance at her hair as she ducked around a tree, running from him. He didn't slow down. "Claire! Claire, stop!"

"She can't."

A tiny voice echoed off the trees, off the fog, off the very darkness that surrounded him before becoming solid. Right behind him, an adolescent girl in a Catholic school uniform stood on a log. Her yellow hair was pinned back at one side, but otherwise swallowed her small shoulders.

Jesse's breathe caught as he looked at the girl, but he quickly turned away towards the spot Claire had disappeared from view. "Why? She has to come back."

"She wants to," the girl-version of Claire responded after a short pause. Her voice had fallen. "But she can't yet."

"But you're here." Jesse's mouth tightened as he looked at the girl. "You're Claire, aren't you?"

She just stared at him for a moment, her fingertips playing nervously with the pleats of her skirt.

"I was."

Jesse frowned. "What are you now? A ghost? A memory?"

The girl looked behind her as if she heard something in the woods, but seemed to think better of it. She sighed quietly, setting herself down on the log and folding her hands on her skirt. Her shoes didn't even reach the ground.

"I'm the Prom she never went to; the entrance exam to Weslyan still in its manila folder. I'm the boy she didn't meet in the English class she never enrolled in, and the wedding dress she never fell in love with."

Jesse's lips parted, a sharp wrench in his chest. He hesitated only a moment before sitting next to her. "Claire wanted those things?"

"There were a lot of things she wanted," she replied, watching him with a vague sadness. "But those weren't part of the plan."

Jesse was instantly on his feet. "Don't talk about plans. There isn't a Plan. There are things people want to do and things that get in the way, that's it."

The teenager followed Jesse with her eyes-big blue eyes, too large for her face. His outburst didn't seem to affect her expression in the slightest. "What is it you want to do?"

The words came easy. "I want Claire back," he said, his chest hitching. "I want Ben to stop being mad. I want to take them someplace safe to hide, where there's no angels or demons. Just us."

"How do you intend to make this happen?"

He gave a wet laugh. "I can't. I can't make any of it happen. Even if I get Claire and Ben back, they won't hide."

"They _can't_ hide," she corrected him softly. "They never could, Jesse. Their lives have specific purpose-as does yours. Claire knows this, which is why she can't come back to you yet."

"They could hide if they wanted to!" Jesse suddenly snapped, tears in his eyes. "If they stopped caring about other people, we could be safe!"

The manifestation of Claire's innocence looked on him sadly, silence sweeping over the little clearing like fog over the fallen birch she sat on. She scooted off of it to the ground and warmly curled her arms around his waist, her cheek pressed a good seven inches lower on his chest than Claire's would in the same position. Jesse's face crumpled and he held on to her tight, wishing she was the real Claire.

"You know that's not true," she soothed. Somewhere in the distant dark, something shrieked. The child in his arms twitched, squeezing a bit tighter. She buried her cheek in his shirt. Jesse squeezed tighter too, looking around.

"We've got to find her. Do you know where she is? Is she alright?"

"I only know where she isn't," she answered, though her voice went tight when another scream pierced the dark, closer and more familiar. "And it's nowhere close to where she wants to be."

It felt like the darkness was closing in on them. Jesse held her tighter, his tongue feeling thick. "I have to do something. But I don't- I don't know what to do."

"_Have faith_."

The voice that answered was not the higher pitch of an older child, but the woman she'd grown into. Jesse was gripping air; the school girl had disappeared, and Claire stood right behind him, her bloodied back facing his way.

"Claire?" His voice hitched on the word. He wanted to reach out to her, to hold it, but there was hardly an inch of her that didn't bleed. "Oh God, Claire. I'm...I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Claire turned to face him, dirtied and beaten, the expression on her face was difficult to read, but there was definitely sadness in her eyes.

Shaking, he fell to his knees. "You're hurt. You're hurt and it's my fault."

"We would have ended up here even if you never came," a voice echoed behind him, deeper and more resonating. "It was the life we chose. The life we were destined to lead. It was never your fault."

Jesse jerked back, his eyes falling on Ben's overly shaggy, dirty, half-starved form, then back to Claire. "It's not destiny! It's a fucking _choice_. You weren't destined for anything. _I'm_ not destined for anything."

"You haven't been shown the road, yet," Claire's voice had started to melt into the fog, just like the rest of her body. As if sensing her impending departure, her eyes took on a desperate glint as she stumbled forward to her knees, taking Jesse's face in her hands. "But you're on it. It'll bring you to me-but you have to _have faith_."

The tears spilled over from Jesse's eyes as he tried to hold onto Claire's disappearing hands. "I have to find you. I have to save you."

Fading into the gloom, Claire's lips moved, saying something without voice before she disappeared completely. Jesse grabbed frantically at the empty air.

"No no no, Claire, please, come back! I'm sorry!"

"It won't be long now." Ben's voice took on a far-away, echoing quality. "The clock is ticking and the walls will come tumbling down. We'll all end up broken. But at least the others will be saved."

Jesse stumbled to his feet, reaching for Ben, but he was already disappearing. "It doesn't have to be that way, Ben! Please! We can leave! We can always leave!"

Ben's voice floated back to him as he disappeared from sight: "But what if I don't want to leave?"

"No! Please!" Jesse sobbed. But there was no one to hear him. He felt the world tilting, falling, until he was on the ground. It was soft and warm and his hands grabbed tightly to the bed sheet. He gasped, opening his eyes to see moonlight glowing around the edges of their hotel room's curtains. Ben stirred slightly in his sleep, curling into himself a bit more. His face scrunched up a little before evening out again, but he remained asleep.

All Jesse wanted to do was roll over and hold Ben tight, but the man deserved some sleep while he could get it. But Jesse's heart was still racing and his eyes threatened with tears; he couldn't just lie there. Quietly, and carefully, he slid out from under the covers.

That was the problem with sharing a bed with a hunter, however: the slightest change in the environment around them was enough to have them flinching awake. Ben inhaled sharply and rolled, catching him at the wrist before he even managed to take a step away from the bed.

"Sorry. I didn't-" Jesse's voice caught and he had to swallow before he could speak. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Wuzrong?" Ben said thickly, letting go just as easily as he'd reached for him to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

The selfish center of him that Jesse was really starting to hate thought that, since Ben was up anyway, he might as well benefit. The rest of him tried not to give in. "Go back to sleep," he said quietly. "It was just a...weird dream."

Ben blinked a few more times, his brow knitting together before he focused more intently on Jesse's face. While he was certainly tired, he could see the other man's grief. Jesse had never been that good at hiding what he was feeling.

"C'mere."

Relief washed over him. Sliding back into bed, Jesse curled against Ben, tears threatening to spill. He wanted so desperately to be safe, and right here was the only place he ever felt it. Ben wrapped his arms around him tightly, pressing every available inch of himself against Jesse, resting temple-to-temple with him. He could feel the heat of Jesse's breath against his neck, little bursting gasps from the compression of his lungs.

"I gotcha," he whispered. "S'okay. S'gonna be okay. It was just a dream."

Jesse nodded though his eyes screwed shut tight. "Stay with me," he said, his voice strained. "Whatever happens, just stay with me."

Ben swallowed hard against him, trying hard to silence the guilt he felt creeping into him. Jesse and Claire could survive if he took it upon himself to save them. They wouldn't have to witness another attempt at ending the world, but to do that he would ultimately die himself, or be as good as dead and let the angel enter him. Kissing Jesse's temple, he nodded gently.

"Always," came the murmured reply.

After a while curled close to Ben, Jesse's breaths were coming easy again. He finally said, "It wasn't like the dreams Belial usually sends me. This...Things were strange. I jumped around, and some stuff was impossible."

Ben brought a hand up to stroke the back of Jesse's head. He thought for a moment to stay quiet and just let Jesse ramble, seeing as the man never really got down to sharing his thoughts much, but Ben knew deep down that Jesse needed the hand to hold. He didn't feel confident without it, not when it came to these new and sensitive things.

"So you think they came from someone else?"

Jesse's mind immediately jumped to Ruth and his stomach clenched. "I don't know. I'm just sick of people getting into my head. I'm sick of them using you and Claire against me."

_You're not the only one,_ Ben thought in answer, hugging Jesse tighter. "They're not just after you, you know."

"Doesn't feel that way," he said with a bitter laugh. But his stomach sank. Ben didn't know to what extent they already had him. He'd said to Claire he'd tell Ben, and keeping him in the dark now might prove dangerous. Taking a breath, he clung tighter to Ben.

"I think this is all my fault. I made a deal with Belial."

Ben tensed, his hand coming to a stop as his pulse suddenly sped to a gallop. He felt the urge to pull back, to get a better look at Jesse's face, but the grip he had on Ben was enough to stop him from moving just yet.

"What kind of deal?"

Thinking about it was bad enough. "I lied to you about that night with the pied piper. When I shot him, the kids, they all fell down dead. And I couldn't do anything to bring them back, so I called Belial to do it. It wasn't a bad deal," he said quickly, though the seeds of doubt Claire planted had certainly grown. "Whenever he calls me, I have to come and listen. I don't have to do anything, just listen."

That time Ben did pull back. His wide hazel eyes rapidly scanned Jesse's face. "No," he said, anxiety flooding through him and coloring his voice. "That can't be it. Six souls just to have you come when he calls? There's a catch."

Jesse felt heat rushing to his face. "That's what Claire said, too. And-and I guess the summoning process is painful. You saw it, when we were out shooting. But that's all there is, I swear." He managed to meet Ben's eyes, but Ben was shaking his head.

"No, there's gotta be more. There's always more. He wouldn't have done it if he-" Ben cut himself off, his eyes widening further. "How did you seal it?"

His stomach sinking, Jesse said, "With a handshake. Though it-it was painful. Like the summoning."

Panic started beating against Ben's ribcage where his heart should have been. "He linked with you somehow. How else would you have known where to go where he summoned you?"

Jesse's eyes were wide. "W-what's that mean?"

Ben pulled Jesse against him, holding on as if for dear life. _No. No, no, no, no. Please don't leave me. You're all I have left, please, please, please-_

"It means he can find you."

Fear converged into solid, aching fact. "It's my fault. They found Claire because of me." _And they might still be coming._ He automatically jerked, trying to pull back from Ben.

"You're not leaving," Ben said tightly, not letting go. "This doesn't change anything. We're gonna find Claire, y'hear me? And we're gonna fix this. Deals can be broken." He'd never heard of one being broken in his life, but there had to be a way.

It was that finally glimpse of hope that pulled a sob from Jesse's lips, his face burying in Ben's chest. "Thank you. Thank you for not making me go. I'll save her, I swear. I'll do anything."

_No, I'll save **you**,_ Ben mentally vowed as he shushed Jesse quietly. "You think you're getting rid of me that easily, Turner? Hand to God, I will follow you wherever you run off to. Count on it."

* * *

><p>It would have been just as easy to break into a new age store and simply steal everything they needed, especially for Jesse, but Ben didn't want to risk any additional or unwanted attention being turned their way. They'd gathered what they needed from Kat's texted list, avoiding the shopgirl's polite small-talk as to what they needed everything for, then raced back to the nearest abandoned farmstead they'd found on the drive through town. Ben found the box of white chalk and moved to the wooden boards they'd dragged in earlier, drawing up the greater seal of Solomon, meant to trap and render a demon unable to use its power. It was much more elaborate than the typical devil's traps he was used to using, but he had to be sure.<p>

Jesse sat on the floor, watching him with red, sleepless eyes. His stomach clenched with nerves, and he felt like a traitor for it. They had to do anything they could to get Claire back, it was as simple as that. He shouldn't feel anything else.

"Can I help?" he asked, his voice a bit rough.

"Get another piece and draw that summoning sigil just on the outside of this. I'll get the ingredients for the spell after I'm done here."

Coming over to give Ben's arm a quick squeeze, Jesse nodded and grabbed some chalk to get to work. Working carefully to get the details right and avoid accidentally stepping into the devil's trap himself, he hardly noticed as Ben left and returned. Straightening, he met the other man's eyes.

"Finished."

Ben placed the censer in the center of the circle in the sigil, a candle in each of the circles on the end of each stalk leading outward from it, then lit the charcoal brick. Gathering up a pinch of the herbs they'd ground down to a powder, he sprinkled it onto the charcoal. Smoke rose quickly, smelling pungent and burning his eyes. He started the summoning chant, the Latin low and clipped. As he spoke, the flames of the candles grew hotter and higher, leaping up at least three inches before a rush of wind blew them out.

Just on the edge of the battery lantern light, the chair in the middle of the Devil's Trap now had an occupant; a spindly brunette wearing a flight attendant's uniform. A brief look of confusion washed her brown eyes as they turned up to the two that summoned her. That confusion was very quickly replaced with annoyance.

"I do _not_ need this right now," she rolled her eyes.

"Neither do we," Jesse said, his teeth clenched. "So I'll be quick. Tell us where Claire is." His voice thrummed with power. She looked directly at Jesse, flashing a cold smile.

"Y'know, I really have no idea." Though it was still venomous, Abbey's smile turned oddly sweet. She folded her hands in her lap.

A strum of panic went through Jesse. "Tell us where Claire is!" he yelled, taking a sharp step towards her. Abbey arched both brows and canted her head.

"I don't know," she answered, much more directly. "Have you tried Cancun? It's lovely this time of year."

"We know you took her," Ben growled out. "We saw the tape. Nice job with the police cruiser, by the way. Where did you take her?" The demon turned her head toward Ben, her smile taking on a cruel edge.

"Why, _thank you_, Benji. You know, I picked up that trick from your father. Good for getting through traffic." Her brows lifted; she continued to avoid the question. "Did you know I knew him?"

Ben felt his stomach twist up into knots at the very mention of his father. Once again he was reminded of his memories, of his mission, of what he needed to do in order to end this war. Without replying he pulled the flask from the holster on his thigh, twisted off the cap, and sloshed its contents on her face. White, ethereal smoke poured off of her as she recoiled with a shriek of pain.

Jesse reached for Ben but fell short of touching his shoulder. The flask's contents made him nervous as well.

"Where did you take Claire?" he repeated.

Abbey's flushed face twisted even further into something like a snarl. "_Oregon_! La Grande, Oregon, where she was _supposed_ to go a long time ago." She snapped a look back to Ben. "The fruit doesn't fall far from the tree, does it, _Benji_. Daddy was a mean son of a bitch, too. Wanna know some of the stories I heard about him from his time in Hell?"

Ben crossed into the circle before he could stop himself, drawing his hand back hard and backhanding her with all the strength he had. Though her head snapped to the side, displacing her carefully arranged hair, the demon just laughed.

"_That's it_," she hissed, sneering at him with blood spilling from her lip. "Anger issues run in the family, don't they? Among _other things_."

"Spare me," Ben barked. "I'm all caught up, thanks." He grabbed a fistful of her hair and twisted her head upward, bending down so that he was close to her face. "You tried to kill my mother and my sister, and then you took my girl. If I ever see you again, I'll kill you." He threw her head back, glaring down at her as he started chanting out the exorcism ritual.

"I got this," Jesse said, cutting him off firmly as his eyes fixed on Abbey. "Go to fucking Hell."

The demon's head tipped back and she screamed, body rigid and voice breaking as the smoke poured out of her. When the last of it faded into nothing her body slumped forward, nearly falling out of the chair. Ben caught her before she dropped, moving her hair out of the way as he checked for a pulse. It was weak, but still present. Without speaking, Ben slid his arms under her knees and lifted her with a grunt of effort, then moved to put her in the GTO, Jesse at his heels. They needed to get her to the hospital before she woke up.

* * *

><p>Chinese water torture seemed like a ridiculous idea. What harm could water really do? And it wasn't like Claire hadn't been through much worse.<p>

Which didn't explain why it was such a relief when she heard a door open to the small room. There was a click, and a dim yellow light turned on overhead. Restraints kept her from looking over, but she didn't need to. A face leaned over her, young and smiling.

"Hello," the boy said. He couldn't have been more than sixteen years old, his near-black hair tucked back in a ponytail. His expression was serene, almost impassive.

Had she not been strapped to a table and assaulted by drops of water for hours, confusion might've been Claire's first reaction. The kid now blocking the piercing light should've been on the set of some kitchy Disney channel show, or waiting in line for the newest video game with his friends-not grinning down at a kidnapped hunter in the middle of a demon nest.

She didn't fully trust her senses right then, either, but hallucinations didn't typically hang around so long. Or did they?

Claire closed her eyes, regardless of how they twitched every time another drop hit her on the forehead. Weak from lack of food, water, and sleep made even the most subtle rise in her blood pressure feel like hot tar moving through her veins. She opened her eyes again, hoping the kid wasn't there. Of course, he was.

His smile widened. "Water bothering you? I'd turn it off, but you might as well get used to it, so."

"Oh, I'm used to it," she lied with another twitch. After the first hour, her muscles had knotted up from stress to the point where she doubted she'd be able to walk right. "Nothing like a good shower."

"We do like to keep our pets clean," he said, lightly brushing the damp hair from her forehead. He glanced down towards her crotch. "'Course, you don't count as one yet. Leaves me dealing with the smell."

"You poor baby." Claire's voice was gritty, practically dragged through malicious sarcasm. She swallowed the brick in her throat in an attempt to temper her breaths. Just this kid's presence was enough to trigger deep, tense instincts, as well as a few recently learned ones.

He tilted his head before stepping back. After a moment, he came back with a water bottle. He stuck it in her mouth, giving one small squeeze, before pulling it away again. Even a little shot of water at that force and angle flooded her sinuses as well as her throat; her brow slammed against the strap that held her down when she gagged, coughing up the excess water.

Propping on his elbows, he leaned closer to her. "So why do you think you're here, Claire?"

"You tell me," she sputtered, struggling for breath.

The boy raised his eyebrows. "Because you might be useful. Might," he said lightly. "'Course I'm sure you've put two-and-two together and realized there are quite a lot of your type here."

Claire's eyes were watering when she opened them again. She could make out the corner of the boy's face in her peripheral vision. She swallowed again. "So I've noticed."

She felt a finger running along her arm. "So. You're not special. Because I know that's what you've been thinking, tucked away, tied up. You're just one of many. And you're not necessary."

A colorless laugh cut from the back of Claire's throat, interrupted by another twitch, from another drop. The line of sensation left by the touch on her arm felt like oil; it made her stomach twist. "That's a lot of effort for someone so unnecessary, Junior. I'm surprised you haven't slapped more tape on my mouth like the others."

"Now why would I need that?"

Claire was quiet for a moment. Something cold and slimy churned in her gut; something she felt like she should've recognized earlier. After the next hard breath, she spewed the first few stanzas of the exorcism rite as fast as she could, but the boy didn't so much as twitch. Instead, he just smiled down at her. Claire didn't even bother to finish, only let her voice die off in a frustrated silence.

Her lips pressed in a thin line. The kid obviously wasn't a demon, he wasn't one of the braindead minions either. There weren't many possibilities left, and none of them provided any relief.

He laughed, sweet, boyish, and completely out of sync with the situation. "See, Claire, I _am_ special. I was created for a purpose. And you're just cattle." He picked up the water bottle again but didn't bring it too her mouth. He turned it over, squeezing cold water across her chest and watching with disinterest as she sucked in a shaken breath. "You had gone a little further from the herd than we like, but we got you back all the same."

Claire's hands had curled into fists a long while back. She only noticed it when they tried to tighten against a stiff soreness that only added to the unpleasant cold. Slowly but surely, the water had been seeping the heat out of her; now the rest of it leached into her wet shirt, and she started to tremble.

"So am I supposed to be part of the feed-lot or what?" she pressed on, despite how much effort it was starting to take to keep up the sardonic conversation.

Setting the bottle down, he ran a hand over her wet breast, his eyes watching her face as her jaw set like stone. "Breeding program. Not with me, 'course," he said, his mouth quirking. His fingers tweaked her nipple. "No matter how nice the packaging, you don't fuck a cow."

Claire immediately closed her eyes tight, trying to block the involuntary flood of images that came with the realization; images of Ben with whitened eyes and the voice that wasn't his. She thrashed once, hard, against the straps that held her still. The effort shot sparks of pain through each muscle.

A slap came hard across her face, and she opened her eyes and went rigid.

"That's a bad habit," the boy said, just as lazy and conversation as before, though he leaned over her closer now. "You're not leaving, unless we want you to. Go ahead and say it. 'I can't leave.'"

She showed him her teeth, gnashed in challenge and growing frustration. "What are you, a Torturer in Training?" she hissed in insult, ignoring his command. There was no doubt in her mind getting out of this place would be next to impossible, but she wasn't going through Hell just to come out the other side empty handed. "How'bout you send _Daddy_ in-show you how it's done."

That same boyish laugh. "You're hardly my first." He slapped her again. "This is the last time I ask nicely, though. Say it." Claire answered by spitting in his face.

Blinking once, the boy wiped his cheek. Then he heaved a sigh. "There are so many of you I have to get to today, so I'll just leave you something to think about." Without a pause, he grabbed her forefinger and broke it.

The pain was delayed a half second, but hit after the wave of shock; the blood drained from Claire's face an instant before her eyes screwed shut and a mangled scream cut through her teeth. Suddenly there wasn't much thought left for the drops of water seeping into her hair.

Giving her one last smile, the boy was gone and the light went out.

* * *

><p>The time had long passed since Claire answered every question or demand with an insolent attempt to break free or sarcastic jab. After the first two hours, it'd boiled down to a matter of pride, which had flared as hot as the piece of hard wire that'd already shredded the back of her shirt and skin beneath it. When the black-haired kid reddened the end of it with a blow torch-that's when Claire stopped speaking all together. Of course, she still made noise.<p>

Unfortunately, that wasn't satisfactory either.

All sensation now blended into a indiscriminate roar of pain. The barbed wire that held her wrists wide apart snagged into her skin every time she jerked, spilling a blood and sweat mix that ran sick trails down the length of her body. No one cut, bruise, or burn distinguished itself from any of the others at this point-not until each time he delivered a fresh one. Claire was still panting from the last strike which cut across the less-abused area of her hip and around to the front of her thigh, taking bits of dirty denim and skin with it. There was a long pause, waiting for the next blow, but instead a hand twisted in her hair, yanking her head back.

"How's my girl doing? You gonna be good for me?" he said, running a hand down her battered side. The bare light bulb above sliced through her closed eyelids, sending little spikes into her brain that rivaled the salt-hot touch he tried to flinch away from. But besides the shaken yelp that parted her lips, Claire still said nothing.

He hummed. "At least you learned it's better if pets stay quiet," he said, sliding a thumbnail along one of the deeper cuts.

Behind her closed eyes, all Claire could suddenly see were sparks of red. On the outside, every muscle shook with agony; the wire restraints tummed and scraped metal in harmony with her garbled scream. But something had started to switch over inside. She felt the pain, but her own voice sounded somehow distant, as if she were hearing it through water.

With no clue of how long she'd been there, with no more than a half hour of sleep at a time, her body was boiling over with weakness, stress, and pain. She _tried_ concentrating on answering him, but it'd gotten to the point where all she wanted was for it to stop. She wanted the creeping numbness that slowly worked itself through her veins to be shock, even if Death came on its heels. As her torturer's thumb dug deeper, something inside her screamed for the Dark; but it was answered by an echo of a woman's voice saying _have faith have faith have faith_.

Fresh, hot tears spilled from her closed eyes as she uttered that phrase aloud, gritty and torn.

For the first time, the boy's expression twisted from its usual serenity. He swung hard, punching Claire across the face. Her head snapped to the side, galaxies exploding in her vision. There was a moment or two where she instinctively tried to keep her weight off the wire in her wrists, but the blow had turned the volume of the world down to next to nothing. She remembered the taste of blood and the hazy sight of the sadistic teenager's anger, then an extra bite in her tendons when she went slack before everything went dark.

"Claire?"

Claire thought she opened her eyes, but it was still mostly dark. A small point of blue light seeped through the black, slowly illuminating the features of the room around her. Not the cement cage she had been in, but there was the soft lines of a bed spread, a small desk and chair in the corner; the faint light was being given off by a twenty gallon aquarium with three gauzy goldfish. They were named Huey, Dewy, and Lewie. It was her old bedroom.

"Oh, baby, I'm so sorry."

Turning her head in the direction of the door, Claire's eyes fell on the shape of her father. His expression was pained and sad. She felt the breath leave her lungs and hang in the air as a heavy silence. It was so hard to look at him, but the Devil himself couldn't get her to look away.

It was when she caught a glimpse of movement in the mirror behind him that the moment caught up to her, and Claire realized why she no longer felt starving, weak, or bleeding. A sight she hadn't seen as long as it'd been with her father stared back at her; the gangly thirteen year old girl with wheat colored hair and eyes too big for her face-but when she looked away from the reflection and down at her own hands on her lap, they were still mangled and streaked with blood that soaked from her wrists-same with the pieces of hair that fell into her vision.

Claire stared at the mess that was her own body, hanging in silence until a sob bubbled up from her throat. She looked back up at him, her face twisted and pleading. Jimmy moved into the bedroom immediately, sitting on the bed and pulling her into his lap.

"I'm so proud of you, Claire. You've been so strong."

She wasted no time in burying her face in his shoulder, clinging to his shirt with her broken hands. Every hard sob should've sent waves of pain through every bit of her, but she felt nothing besides her father's warmth and the weight of his arms around her shoulders. In a matter of heartbeats, Claire just collapsed on herself.

"Don't make me go back," she begged, crying into his shirt. "_Please_, Daddy-I can't do this..."

His hand stroked through her hair, lips brushing against her temple as he rocked her. "If I could stop it all, honey, I would," he murmured. "You were supposed to be safe. This was never supposed to happen."

She just continued to curl against him and into herself, her breaths hitching in uneven gasps. "Tell me what to do. How do get through this? They're just gonna kill me-"

"No," Jimmy hummed out. "They won't. There's too few Vessels in the world. They'll keep you alive, but they won't stop until they've broken you." He pulled back, looking into her face. "But they won't succeed. The boys're coming for you."

Claire stared back into her father's deep blue eyes; warm as they were always honest. A wave of something she couldn't define swept through her, starting at the heart. "They're alive?" she breathed, her eyes wide. Through the systematic breaking down of her body and spirit, the dregs of her faith had centered on simple survival-to make it to the finish line Kadiel had given her. Worrying about Ben and Jesse's fate after she was taken had been too difficult to bare. Jimmy swept her hair out of her face, his thumb tracing a trail along the contour of her cheek.

"But the moment they arrive, you have to run, baby. Run for your life. Promise me."

She searched his face for details behind the instruction, but the seriousness in the simple words was clear enough. More tears fell from her eyes, streaking the dried blood and caked grime beneath Jimmy's fingertips. Her lips pressed into a hard line, folded between her teeth, but she nodded.

"Stay with me," she half-sobbed, her voice tightening. She had no idea how long she had this temporary escape for, but the thought of waking up alone in that Hell terrified Claire more than the notion of dying there. "Please don't leave me..."

"I've always been with you," he whispered, kissing her forehead. Claire's eyes closed; another rush of internal strength flushed through her. It felt like a long drink of cold water.

His arms circled her a bit tighter, and more whispered words moved against her temple. His voice was like dark velvet, wrapping it's perfect affection and love around her battered psyche. The relief brought more tears to her eyes. "_Hail Mary, full of Grace-_" Claire's lips followed suit on her next breath, without hesitation. The faded blues of her old room dissolved back into the cold yellow light of the cement hotel. Her nerve endings all lit with various levels of fiery pain, but she didn't scream; only continued to whisper: "-blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus..."

A hand came under her chin, tilting it up. "Look at me," the boy said, almost gently. Her reverent, almost chant-like whispering paused just long enough for their eyes to meet. Claire's breath caught tightly in her throat, then continued, still holding his gaze.

"_-pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death..._"

The boy's expression tightened, but he kept his tone down, just loud enough to be heard over her. "Your God is gone. He doesn't care about you any more; He has left your world. You're speaking to dead air."

Claire paused, searching his face in a way she hadn't done before, not in their entire horrific time together. The building crescendo of her pain made her quiver, and made her eyes sharp, but there was something else behind them now, something that complimented the fragmented smile that cut across her face.

"Then why do you look scared?"

He smiled. "Because that's what you want to see. Your brain is so desperate not to feel helpless that you're starting to invent things to hope for." He leaned in close, his grip tight on her jaw to hold her fast. "But there is no hope. If you're going to pray, start praying to me. Then you might survive."

She felt his every movement, every breath in that grip, shooting sparks of pain down her spine, but her jaw set tight to resist it. Her breath hissed through gnashed teeth and lips that peeled rebelliously back.

"_The Lord_ is my shepherd, I shall not want. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death-"

Something passed over the boy's eyes but he stepped away, turning his back on her. He turned the light out as he left, the door clicking shut and leaving her in darkness. Claire took a moment to acclimate to the void, listening to her own breaths. Then, still hanging in her own bloodied skin and clothes, continued to pray.

* * *

><p>"There's a little hotel on the edge I want to work out of," Ben was saying into the phone as they drove. Driving on the main highways all but guaranteed a cop would pull them over, so they were following a back road perpendicular to the highway. Unfortunately, there were a lot more bends and hills. "Just outside of town, called the Hot Lake Hotel? It's remote enough that we won't be followed back. We'll meet you there."<p>

"_Just don't do anything stupid, Shaggy,_" Kat's tinny voice replied on the other end. "_Wait for back-up. There's no telling how many other demons'll be there._"

_Got all the back-up I need,_ Ben thought, casting a quick sideways look at Jesse in the passenger's seat. "Yes, ma'am. Seeya soon." He ended the call and immediately started ringing up Lucas.

"_Any news?_" Lucas answered.

"We got a location. We're gonna need a few more eyes though, if they can be spared," Ben said. "How many we got in eastern Oregon?"

"_Three that I know of. Maybe another half dozen if you include all of Oregon and southern Washington. What's the town?_"

"La Grande," Ben answered, his eyes glancing at the map and then the digital clock on the radio faceplate. "We're about eighteen hours out. If we push through the night, we'll be there by two tomorrow."

"_Alright. Any idea where in town? I can definitely have other hunters there. Hell, I'll be there._

Once again, Ben was reminded of his mistake not to drill the demon a little harder. "Wasn't able to get specifics."

"_We'll get there and start looking then. Call you if we find anything likely._" There was a pause before Lucas said, "_That's a helluva lot of trouble for the demon to go to for Claire._"

Ben looked sideways over at Jesse again, his whole face focused on driving, and felt a twist in his chest. How much did he dare to tell Lucas about what was going on? Maybe he'd know a few more tricks they weren't themselves aware of.

"There's a bigger story to it that I promise I'll tell ya once all this shit calms down," he said, opting for the compromise. "I wish it was just as simple as that, but when is anything simple with us, right?"

There was a pause, and then the way Lucas spoke, it was clear he was careful picking his words. "_Tell me if I'm wrong, but has it got something to do with Jesse?_"

"It has to do with all of us," Ben answered, swallowing down his defensive tone. "We've all got a part in it."

Another pause. "_Alright. I'll see you when you get to La Grande. Call me if you need anything. And you be careful, alright?_"

"I'm always careful, Luke," Ben replied, trying to inject a little humor into his voice before ending the call.

"There are other hunters coming, aren't there?" Jesse said quietly, looking at him.

"We need all the eyes we can get, Jess," Ben answered. "Even with a small town like that."

"I know," Jesse said, fiddling with the air vent. "Anyone and anything we can get to help is fine. Was just asking."

Ben leaned back in the seat, resisting the urge to curl into himself. He hadn't meant to snap, but every time he closed his eyes he couldn't help but remember the vessels from the camp in Maine. Had they already started deconstructing Claire to fit their mold? _She's stronger than that,_ he told himself. _She'll survive. It'll be okay. Believe in her._ Ben turned his eyes out the window, bringing one hand up to twist the heel of it into each of his eyes.

* * *

><p>It'd been hours-or at least, that's what it felt like, since the light went out. Maybe it'd only been one hour. Maybe it'd been fifteen minutes. Claire hadn't been able to follow the time in a long, <em>long<em> while, and she'd stopped whispering the prayers of her childhood aloud when her mouth became too dry to speak.

The pitch black had eventually faded by the faint slit of light that still managed to peek through the bottom of the closed door. She only knew about it by the ghost of a shadow her battered body cast on the opposite wall; her back facing the tiny glow. Claire looked at the dark shape in front of her, poised on her knees with her arms spread wide, held fast by what felt like rusted wire. She didn't dare move; the stillness she settled into kept the pain at a tolerable roar-but the weight of her own head had become too much for her neck to support.

Slowly, she dropped her chin toward her chest, eyes squeezing tight against the rods of hot pain the movement caused. Her mind zeroed in on the imagined shape of her father. She repeated his words without any sound to her voice: _They're coming for you. They're coming._

The light suddenly snapped on, causing the bulb it emanated from to buzz loudly.

"Hello, little hunter," a warm, deep voice uttered. The door hadn't even opened or shut.

Ice water trickled down the length of Claire's spine as her stressed synapses very easily processed that voice. Caked blood in her palms cracked and flaked away when her hands closed into fists-except for the three random fingers that stood stiff and swollen from the rest. There was no use trying to temper her breathing in order to stay still.

"I would have been here sooner, but I've been very busy. This isn't an easy job, as I'm sure you're aware."

"You're wasting your time with me," she croaked out, finally opening her eyes. The light hurt like everything else, but so did her natural grimace. Still, her focus centered on the shifting shadow of a tall man. It came closer as he drew nearer.

"I don't think so," he admitted. "One way or another, I'll get what I want from you. The difference is whether or not you take it easily. The faster you submit to your fate, the quicker it'll all be over. We treat our mothers with much more care than you think, once they've been tamed."

_Tamed_. That word soured in Claire's stomach. _Broken down. Brainwashed. Destroyed._ She wanted to say every other more accurate description she could think of, but she knew she'd be wasting her breath. This wasn't a deranged soul with delusions of grandeur; there would be no changing his mind.

She hung there for a moment of silence, watching his shadow draw ever closer. Claire already knew who he was; she didn't need a visual. He was the Lion in the lion's den.

"And what is it you want from me?" she asked with poison in her weak voice. His hand took her chin and forced her head upward to look at him, his lips spread in a wide smile.

"You aren't like the others," he whispered. "You're stronger. I felt it, the moment I looked at you. I have different plans for you than the others."

Her jaw clenched in his hand; Claire swallowed hard, but held onto his gaze despite the cold throb of instinctive fear that came with it. Somehow, she managed to give him a deeply sarcastic sneer. "_Goody._ What might that be?"

He smiled right back at her, leaning in so close that their lips nearly touched when he spoke. "Why tell you when I could show you?"

The urge to wretch her face away was so strong it hurt, but just the precursor tension through her neck and flayed shoulders hurt a lot more. Claire gnashed her teeth together and tried to swallow her own rapid heartbeat. It continued to spike, despite her efforts.

"I don't do well with surprises," she gritted. Every gut instinct screamed that she didn't want to know either way, but then everything she'd survived to that point would be in vain. She had to follow this to the end. Nothing could be missed.

The demon stroked her face with a smile before forcefully letting go, which caused Claire to immediately hold her breath and bite back another shot of pain.

"I'll see you in a few hours, little hunter. Isaac will be with you in a moment to prepare you."

"Prepare me for _what_," Claire demanded, unable to keep the twist of desperation completely out of her voice. She quickly tried to cover it. "I think he's tenderized me enough."

The demon's smile widened as he moved through the door without answering. It echoed shut with painful finality behind him. Claire followed the sound of his footsteps as they faded in the distance, and were replaced by her own breaths. They were deepening involuntarily as the vice around her stomach tightened. A new set of tears threatened to burn her eyes. Only by extreme effort was she able to grapple them under control. It was getting harder and harder.

It was hard to tell if it was minutes or hours later that the door opened and the boy, Isaac, came in to the sound of squeaking wheels. As he moved around to Claire she saw he had one of the the braindead minions with her, pushing a small cart. The top was covered.

"Congratulations, Claire," Isaac said, his smile easy. "You have been approved to have your body cleansed of imperfections." She watched him, then the cart from behind her hair, her vision still hazy from the light. Doubtful whatever lay under the cover was antibiotics or a tetnus shot. Claire's stomach slowly twisted, bottoming out.

"What 'imperfections'."

Isaac's touch was almost gentle as he circled a spot on her forearm. "The blood has done fairly well covering it up, but I'm afraid the tattoo goes too deep. It must be removed for you to suit our needs."

He turned around, the other man lifting the lid off the tray. Isaac picked up a scalpel, and for the first time since arriving in that Hell Hole, Claire was _truly_ terrified.

"_NO-!_" Eyes wide, she jerked against the wires again and again, the pain was lost in the flood of horror. Where the strength came from, she had no idea, but a animalistic part of her was ready to tear her own hands off to get away. "Don't you touch me!"

"Now, Claire, there's no reason to keep you pretty. And if you keep this up, I'll just have to cut off more than I need to." He ghosted the scalpel along her thigh. "And we don't want me hitting something important, like an artery."

Two large hands clamped down on Claire's shoulders from behind; the silent man pressed in and held her still, sending bolts of lightning through every jagged slice and welt that crossed her back. A growled scream cut through Claire's teeth, her eyes screwed shut.

"This is an honor for you, Claire," Isaac said as he made the first, careful slice. "Someday you will realize that."

Shuddering like a leaf from head to toe, Claire's mind screamed in desperate protest. Her heartbeat matched the furious pace her breaths had taken on, punctuated by more gritty shouts of pain. Hot trails of crimson rolled from the now open wounds at her wrists, mixing with the lines that dripped from Issac's work on the anti-possession tattoo, and Claire could no longer hold back the tears of terror and rage that streaked down her face.

"You're doing so well, Claire," Isaac soothed, as though to a child with a scraped knee. "There, see? All finished. Now Bryce will patch you up. Can't have you dying on us. That would just be a waste of time and energy."

As if on cue, the large hands on her shoulders suddenly let up, leaving her limp and panting, her head hanging heavy. Blood and tears dropped to the floor in Bryce's shadow as he moved around her, pushing a sterile pad and gauze on the raw patch of missing skin. Every fiber of her being was steeped in pain, and now the clarity of the Demon's words pulsed through her veins like acid.

_They're coming for you. They're coming. Just hold on._

Whether it was Kadiel's voice, her father's, or her own didn't matter. The thought was distant, but it was there. It was her only scrap of hope-that, and the thought that came with it.

"Before I leave this place," she muttered, her voice tight and shaking, just before Issac could leave. "I _will_ kill you."

Isaac gave her cheek a pat. "Good thing you're never leaving then."

With quiet steps and a squeaky wheel, they left her alone again in her pain.

* * *

><p>Even as physically weak as Claire was, in the hours after Issac left with a crucial piece of her forearm, her consciousness refused to yield. In the dark, she shivered and bled, whispering prayers that provided less and less comfort as the time went on. More than once, she called to Kadiel, and received no answer, each time remembering the angel's words; <em>the place is barred, you must get away<em>.

But the wires around her wrists felt like they were part of her actual bone structure at that point. Even her broken fingers contained no feeling from the lack of blood. Every breath cracked the dried black crust on the shreds of her shirt and reopened another wound _somewhere_. She wouldn't have been able to stand, even if she were somehow able to get herself untangled.

Claire's head hung, her eyes closed and burning like the rest of her. The last hour had gone by with memories of Ben and Jesse, no longer focused on when they would arrive and this Hell would end. Only their smiling faces; the sound of Ben's laugh when he's slightly drunk, and Jesse's tendency to shriek like a girl when tickled.

"_I'm so sorry_," she mumbled tightly into the dark, slowly resigning to the knot in her throat. "_I love you_."

There was the sound of rushing wind from somewhere distant, but it became louder as it approached. The little light that snuck in from the crack underneath the door flickered out as the sound reached tornado decibels and then Claire felt it: the rush of putrid black smoke, shoving its way past her throat and claiming her altogether. Her eyes and head rolled back as darkness started to worm its way through her mind, wrapping around her soul like a choking vine.

_Get out get out get out Jesus help me God please get the fuck out!_ Claire mentally thrashed and kicked as the demon pressed her into a cage in her own consciousness. There was a sensation not too unlike laughter, and for the briefest moment Claire heard could hear it - in her own voice. The demon dug in deep and invasively, but just as quickly as it joined with her it was gone.

It left her limp and shuddering, like she'd been hit and rolled by a train. The sheer violation of it, the deep, fiery malice left its impression on her heart that she couldn't shake, no matter how much she tried. Between their shaken counterparts, Claire sucked in a hard, painful breath, then let it loose as a guttural, anguished scream.

"Temper, temper," a rumbling, familiar male voice injected. "I was only in you for a minute; get your panties out of a bunch. Considering what you've been under lately, you should be glad it was me and not Isaac coming in to prod you a bit more."

Slowly, Claire opened her eyes, lifting them toward the chillingly recognizable timbre. Even in the near-darkness, it was easy to find the dark brown eyes of the man who had helped un-gag her the moment she'd finally been released into the processing cell: David. However, that's where the similarities ended. What stood in front of her was _not_ David.

"It really is a bit sad, what must be done for the breeding process. At least when we're riding you, you're not experiencing the pain and shit all of it all the time. Boss likes you. He'll make sure his mate rides you gently and keeps you comfortable."

_Is that supposed to make me feel better?_ Claire stared at the demon, not even bothering to hide that thought from her eyes or temper her breathing.

"Who are you," she demanded, strong as she could make her voice. "Why just jump in and out like that-or was that just for shits and giggles?"

"Oh, I'm not the one he's chosen for the job," David replied, flashing her a smile. "I'm just the physician, if you will. Checking to make sure you're ready. Unfortunately, it looks like we've got a couple days yet, assuming your stress hasn't slowed your clocks down." He rocked back on his heels. "Well, I better get to reporting back. This was just a temporary body, too. All the locals in the house have been taken, and boss wants this one on breeding duty."

Claire swallowed thickly, processing each separate bit of ominous information. Her heart hurt as much as the rest of her, and it went out to poor David. _Couple days. Still got a couple days._ Dropping her chin back to her chest, Claire said nothing else. Maybe she was reaching for any scrap of hope, but that 'couple days' felt like a small window.

_Hurry, guys_, she thought desperately in her head. Her eyes closed as she started to weep _Please hurry._

* * *

><p>Lucas had called them when they were still a few hours out. They'd found a place swarming with demons; the Hot Lake Hotel. It was going to be a tricky thing, especially since so far only Kat and three other hunters had been able to join them. They were hunkered in a hotel in La Grande. When Jesse and Ben arrived, they kept the greetings short. The three other hunters were a family, the Mathers. Ellis was tall, blond, and weathered and didn't seem a man of many words. Sarah was red-haired and freckled with eyes always crinkled in a smile. Their daughter Rebecca was blond and probably a few years younger than Jesse, though she seemed pretty sure of herself.<p>

Convening in Lucas' room, he quickly brought Ben over to a map pinned on the wall. "Hot Lake isn't too far away, and observation is pretty easy," he said. "It wasn't too hard finding the blueprints online. The only trouble will be deciding where they might have Claire. How...important do you think they're treating her?"

"They'd want her in isolation," Ben said, feeling a clench in his chest as he tried not to focus on the details. "And with enough obstacles in the way that if she did get out, she'd be easy to stop."

"So either up high or as low as they can," Sarah chimed in from her lean against the far wall. Rebecca nodded absently, looking down at the phone in her hand; she was texting her father, who had just checked in from his stake of the place.

"Doubt they put her in a penthouse," the younger woman added.

Jesse's expression was hard as he looked over the map. "Can I get a look at the blueprints?"

Lucas glanced at him, then at Ben. "Sure. Haven't had a chance to hit a printer, but we can bring them up on my laptop." He opened it up on the dining table.

Ben knew without asking what Jesse was already considering, and felt a rush of overwhelming anxiety. To counter it, he tried to fixate on the night before, when Jesse had woken up from his nightmare and clung to him so desperately. _He isn't leaving. He wants to stay. He won't leave without me._

"Did you see any other civilians?" Ben asked Luke.

"The place is boarded up pretty tight, so no luck seeing in. But there were some men walking around," Lucas said, pointing to the side of his head. "Ears looked burned, like you told me about. This looks like the same kind of operation you came across before."

Both Sarah and her daughter pulled the same expression; brows knitted, their lips tugged down at the corners. They were both looking at Ben. Sarah spoke first. "What's this, now?"

"The demons found religion or something," Ben answered, carefully dodging the question. "We don't know all the details yet-"

The door to the hotel opened and closed before he had a chance to continue, and in came Kat, looking drawn and exhausted but very pissed off.

"Please tell me there's coffee. I haven't had any in two hours, and I'm ready to kill something."

"Always got a fresh pot for you, Kat," Lucas said with a small smile, nodding toward the kitchenette. Sarah and Rebecca glanced briefly at the other woman, a spark of subtle recognition in their gazes before they turned back to Lucas, veering back on topic.

"Big gathering like this ain't a pool-party. If you fellas got an idea about what's going on, it be nice to know." Rebecca injected, then glanced back down at her phone.

Kat returned within moments, drinking generously from a travel mug and looking pointedly at Jesse and Ben. Ben found himself torn on what exactly to say; he hadn't prepared himself for a presentation.

"You ever dealt with angels before?"

"_Angels_?" Sarah asked before she could stop herself. She sent a look toward her daughter, who's expression was much less cynical. They both looked back to Ben, the older huntress continuing: "As in 'Army-of-Heaven-Let-There-Be-Light' _angels_?"

"As in 'rain-the-wrath-of-God-upon-you' angels," Jesse said, not looking up from the laptop.

"They possess people, too. Different circumstances and much more willing hosts, but they exist. Thing is, their hosts come from very specific bloodlines, and they're the only ones that can be ridden. The demons want them for something. For all I know, it's their version of Comic-Con and these hosts are their costumes. They're out to fuck the world up; what else is new?" It wasn't the whole truth and Ben knew Lucas might be roused to speak up about it, but he hoped he wouldn't. There was only so much he felt comfortable sharing with strangers, for all that they were willing to help them out in a pinch.

"Well, _fuck_-" Rebecca's brows arched in that 'learn something new every day' fashion. "So what-your girl's one'a those 'bloodlines'?" Sarah looked increasingly uncomfortable.

"Why else would she have been taken?" Kat interjected before Ben had a chance to answer. Her voice was a lot more agitated, and Ben had a pretty good idea why. "If you don't want in on this, you can turn back at the door, but there'll be other people in there. Y'think y'can walk away from people dyin' on your doorstep, kiddo?"

Rebecca's jaw tightened and her lips parted to shoot a retort, but Sarah beat her to it. "We came for a reason, but no one's goin' anywhere blind."

"They're demons, Sarah," Kat answered flatly. "We all know the drill."

"There..." Lucas glanced quickly at Ben. "There are probably more than just demons in there, though."

It took all of Ben's energy not to punch Lucas in the face, even after all the guy had done for them over the past few weeks. Feeling the eyes turn back on him again, Ben said, "It's possible they're trying to summon a critter. We've been working on researching what, but there's next to no lore on them. If it doesn't beg for mercy and it doesn't flinch away from an exorcism, kill it."

Sarah and Rebecca's faces reflected their obvious skepticism; the younger started furiously typing something on her phone.

"Do we even know how it _can_ be killed, Shaggy?" Kat countered, her voice taking on a harder edge. Ben had to practice extreme self-control to keep from shouting at her.

"If it were that easy, Kat, why would I have called for help?"

"Look," Jesse said, turning around and sitting back against the table. "We know there are demons in there. We know there are freaky mindfucked minions in there. We think there might be something else in there, something bad and strong but that should be at least affected by planting bullets in its torso. If you want to back out, fine. We got this."

Kat remained silent, though the ferocity in her body language had dimmed significantly at Ben's words. Sarah's copper brows pushed up toward her hairline. "Once again-we're here because we want to help, but since asking specifics is twisting some panties, how'bout you two tell us how you wanna run this show. I don't mind followin' instructions, but you can't blame us for asking."

"That's what we have to figure out," Jesse said, eyes falling on Ben. "Outside for a bit?"

Ben rolled his lower lip between his teeth but nodded, waiting for Jesse to stand and following him out through the hotel door. Jesse walked a couple doors down before stopping.

"I can get in there, right now," he said, watching Ben.

"I knew you were gonna say that," Ben breathed, his anxiety once again skyrocketing.

"It would just be a scouting trip, I swear," Jesse said, laying a hand on Ben's arm. "I'd get in there, see what we're up against, where they're keeping Claire, if she's there, and then I get out. Like the lady said, we don't want to go in blind."

"And you think nobody's gonna notice that you suddenly know where everything and everyone is?" Ben pointed out, his voice strained. "If Luke were any more obvious about his lack of trust in you, he'd be a neon sign."

"I don't give a fuck if he trusts me, I want Claire back," Jesse snapped. "That's the important thing here, right?"

Ben put both his hands on Jesse's shoulders and met his gaze, his expression deeply serious. "I don't want anyone hunting you, Jess. I want Claire back, too, but I don't wanna risk anything happening to you."

"Look, I don't need to tell them shit. I go in there, figure it out, then you bring it to them like a plan, not like you actually _know_. And if there's a problem, I'll scrub a few memories and we're good."

"Jess-" Ben started, finally allowing some fear into his voice.

"Let me do this. Please," he said, grabbing Ben's arm. "I'll do it tonight, it'll be really quick, and then we can save Claire and fuck those demons good. Just let me do this."

Ben let out a shuddering breath and dropped his gaze, nodding. Every single instinct inside him screamed in protest, but he understood Jesse's reasons. He couldn't be possessed, for all that they knew; he wouldn't get hurt in the crossfire.

"If something happens to you-" Ben croaked out.

Cupping his face, Jesse cut him off with a kiss. Ben all but crushed himself against him, arms wrapping tightly around his waist and shoulders. When he finally pulled back, Jesse's lips brushed against Ben's. "I'll be fine. I'm a big boy."

"I know," Ben rasped, feeling a tremble starting in the marrow of his bones. "I just- I can't lose you both. I can't."

"You're not losing anybody," Jesse said, pulling back. "Now cowboy up. You have to be all macho and man-with-a-plan."

Ben gave a wet laugh and rubbed painfully at his eyes, but nodded. Steeling his shoulders, he lead the way back into the hotel room.

* * *

><p>If there was one thing Jesse had learned, it was that security was always generally focused on keeping people out. Once you were in, it might as well be your own house. Which meant he had a distinct advantage. He came up in the basement; that's where they had figured Claire might be, so it was probably the best place to start. The place was quiet, except for a high, far off noise he couldn't quite place. The halls were dim and he walked carefully along. Just as he was about to turn a corner, a man beat him to it.<p>

"Stop. Don't make a sound," Jesse ordered. The man instantly complied, his eyes going wide. He looked to be in his thirties, but Jesse knew by the twist in his stomach that he was much older. "Where is Claire Novak?"

The demon looked confused, but answered in a gravelly voice. "Storage room five."

Jesse rolled his eyes. "How do I get there?"

"Down the sub-basement stairs, second door on the right."

"Great, thanks. Now go to Hell." No sooner had the words left his lips that the man''s head rolled back, the thick black smoke spilling out of his mouth coiled round and shot down a nearby drain. Its host collapsed where he stood, gasping wide-eyed and obviously terrified.

Jesse felt only a little guilty at being disappointed the host was still alive. "Calm down and stay here. And don't make a sound," he ordered. "I'll be back for you."

Of course, he might be back for him the next day, but there wasn't much Jesse could do to help him now. He should actually leave right now, since he knew where Claire was. But he had to see her. He couldn't come this far and not make sure.

Following the directions into a sub-basement alight with bare bulbs, Jesse listened at the door a moment before opening it and peering cautiously in. It was too dark. Throwing caution to the wind, he flicked the lightswitch. His gaze immediately fell on a head of long, blond hair.

"Claire," he breathed, quickly stepping in and closing the door. "Claire, it's Jesse, I've-"

He froze when he saw her face. It was Claire alright, but only just. It was hard to find an inch of her which wasn't covered in blood. Her clothes hung off of her in torn strips, dirty and matted as her hair. He felt his stomach surge as he reached out to gingerly touch her.

Besides the barely-noticeable rise and fall of her chest, she was quiet and limp as a dead animal supported by two suspended wires. Even when he touched her, there was a moment of no reaction-but two breaths later, Claire's eyes slowly, painfully opened. It took a while to focus, but the familiar solid frame of the body in front of her finally sunk in.

"..._Jess_" Claire stammered on the deepest breath she could muster. _Please don't let me be dreaming_.

Jesse's breath hitched. "It's me, baby. I found you." He wanted to touch her, hold her, but her body looked like one mass of pain. There was only one thing he could do. He grabbed the wires wrapped around her wrist and began untwisting them. "It's going to hurt, baby, but I'll get you down, I'll get you out of here."

It _did_ hurt, a lot, but Claire simply didn't have the energy left to tense up or even flinch away. Her eyes closed, her breath hitching through split and bruised lips, but the new tears that dropped along her cheeks weren't from the pain. As much as her exhaustion would allow, elation washed over her like a tidal wave.

"I knew you were coming," she rasped. Most every part of her was nearly broken, but after almost wilting, her heart felt full and untouched.

He couldn't manage a smile at the words. She sounded and looked so mutilated that all he could feel was the boiling, poisonous heat rushing through his veins. He freed her from the last of the wire, gently easing her to the floor.

"What's broken?" he said, his own voice tight. "I'm going to carry you, but I want-"

_[ wish at least they'd let me wash her she stinks like hell and then I'd get to rub peroxide and salt into the wounds it's been at least six hours since I heard a good blood curdling scream ]_

The thought had started off distantly, but as it approached it became louder and the thrum of all the emotions tied in with the words washed over him. The nagging sensation in his mind was relentless, but then confusion and hope started pulsing into him.

_[ wait what's that is that him oh god is it him master is here master is here where is he must find him must serve him - ]_

The door opened and a teenager emerged, his eyes bright and wide as a grin split up his face.

"It's you," he gushed with uncharacteristic happiness. "It's really you."

The words were like being in a pool of adulation, but the hot anger at Jesse's core burned hotter. He was on his feet and in two strides had the boy by the neck, yanking him inside as he slammed the door shut. He pulled the boy over, shoving his face towards Claire.

"Did he do this to you?"

Isaac's eyes went wide with pain and confusion at his mistreatment, making a choked noise. _[ master why are you doing this all I want is to be yours - ]_

Claire's dulled eyes locked in Issac's sharply frightened gaze. Her expression barely changed on the surface, but there was a moment of solid reckoning.

"Tell him," she whispered to the boy.

Jesse yanked the boy back, pinning him against the wall but easing up enough on his throat so he could speak.

"She's a vessel. I was only doing as ordered," Isaac gasped out.

Gritting his teeth hard, Jesse pulled the boy forward only to slam him hard against the wall. The lights flickered as the air rushed out of boy's lungs. "Not by me," he snarled. "You were born to serve _me_, and I never told you to hurt her."

The boy's eyes glazed over with reverence. "I'll do anything you ask. Anything and everything-"

_[ born to serve born to love born to be yours always yours everything anything follow you wherever you go ]_

Jesse punched him hard across the face before tightening his grip on his throat again. The boy didn't even try to stop him.

"Jess-we have to go," Claire urged weakly. Her attempt to sit up barely made it past trying to move her arms, but the trickle of adrenaline was slowly putting life back in her limbs. It also reminded her of how crucial their escape was. "Before the rest come back."

His grip tightening a moment, Jesse let go with a snarl. "Don't make a fucking sound," he ordered, eyes hard on the boy's before he glanced down. He pulled a long knife from the boy's belt, placing it in his hand. "When we leave, slice open your stomach and pull out your intestines. And then sit here alone in the dark and think about how you failed me as you die."

Turning around, Jesse slid his hands under Claire's knees and behind her back, lifting her in one smooth step. He flicked off the light and left without so much as looking back. The boy remained silent as the door fell closed, but Jesse hardly took a step away before he heard the mental screams of anguish:

_[ failed him failed him failed him failed him worthless useless sack of shit meant to die only born to serve him and failed him failed him - ]_

Claire couldn't keep her eyes open for much longer than a few seconds at a time; the yellow lights rushing past, the momentum and sway of Jesse's body beneath her, every step he took jarred splinters of pain through her bones. She couldn't even cling to him due to the broken ones; her head simply lay limp on his shoulder.

"The others," she whispered into his shirt. "There are others they took."

"We'll come back for them," he said firmly. "First, I'm getting you out."

The basements were quiet as they went through, but when he came up on the first floor, it was obvious the cavalry had been notified.

The lobby was _packed_. People of all shapes and sizes, colors and ages stood in silent attention, all staring directly at Jesse and the unconscious woman in his arms. Some had the dull, lifeless gaze of the familiar human slaves. Others, their eyes were completely black.

[_- him him it's him -_]

[_- serve him -_]

[_- love him -_]

Jesse could feel the Nephilim among them, shifting closer, their eyes bright. Despite the adrenaline racing through him, he could pick out the beats of his heart, slowing, steady. Gently, he set Claire on the floor, giving her one last look before he stepped over her. She didn't move; she was barely breathing.

"I am your master. You were born to serve _me_," he said, his voice echoing in the high-ceilinged room. He pulled his gun and knife from his belt. "Forget all other orders. You protect me, you protect the girl. And you kill anyone and anything that's between us and the door."

The slaves started swarming forward as one, without instructions ever being given aloud. They'd barely taken four steps when they were knocked back as though from a blast wave. The source was a twelve-year-old girl, her black hair pulled back sharply from her temples into a high ponytail away from her face, hands outstretched in front of her as though she were holding back an invisible force. The other two - children, all of them, barely having hit puberty - rushed forward to Jesse, flanking him as the demons still standing balked.

"Insolent children!" one of the demons shrieked. "He will kill you where you stand!"

[_ follow him wherever he goes -_]

[_ - follow him whatever he says born to serve -_]

[_- follow him follow him born to be his always his always -_]

"You, guard her!" Jesse shouted at one of the boys before slicing through the throat of a man trying to rush him. "Demons, to Hell!"

As black smoke filled the room, he surged forward, shooting and slashing through every body he could find. They deserved it, they deserved to die. Look what they had done. Bodies collapsed at all sides as the two Nephilim not guarding Claire joined in the fray. They moved with surprising grace and agility, flashes of something silver in their hands glinting in the poor light as their opponents fell dead to the floor with their furious movement.

Jesse moved seamlessly with them, but the sheer numbers overwhelmed. When he pulled the trigger only to hear an empty click, two guards grabbed his arms, trying to get him pinned. He struggled with a snarl. _Off, off, OFF!_ And suddenly the men went flying. He didn't stop, didn't question it, throwing down his empty gun as he stabbed another through the heart.

The numbers rabidly dwindled until only Jesse and the three children were left standing. His breath not even coming hard, Jesse's eyes surveyed the room before coming to rest on his allies. His servants. Or slaves. They were just as mindless as the men they had helped slaughter. Only difference was, they listened to him. _When I'm here._

And they had power. He thought of the boy downstairs, what he had done to Claire, and how he hadn't even cared. These weren't people, they were sheep. And they were dangerous. He wasn't about to bring them with him, but he couldn't just leave them here. Not when Belial would be there to snatch them up again.

_It's a kindness, really. Doing them a favor._

He walked up to the first boy, his shining, happy eyes focused unblinking on Jesse's face. With a steadying breath, Jesse rested a hand on the boy's head.

"You did well," he said softly. "Thank you."

Then he grabbed either side of the boy's head and snapped his neck. The other two children immediately dropped to their knees, as if to make it easier for him.

[_- happily die for you -_]

[_- live to serve born to die anything you want master -_]

Love and adoration radiated out of them like tidal waves, relentless and limitless. There wasn't even a flicker of fear or remorse.

Jesse's stomach roiled, and he hesitated, but he knew what was right. He snapped the girl's neck first, and then the boy nearer Claire. _Just keep going._ He didn't look back as he hefted Claire back into his arms before heading for the door, picking his way carefully on the blood-slicked floor.

"_-have to run..._" Claire's emaciated voice almost completely disappeared in her breath. Her eyes were barely open, catching dull light between her lashes.

"Shh," Jesse soothed as he tried to hold her and open the door. "It's okay, we're safe now."

Three bloody fingers twisted into his shirt. Reality was an explosion of painful light and color, nothing was solid except for the phrase that weakly rode her breath, and the thought on loop behind it; _get away, get away as fast as you can_. Claire had never been told _exactly_ why, but as Jesse's feet crossed the hotel threshold, instincts buried too deep to define switched on.

"No-we _have to run_," she said, her timbre going gritty. "_They're coming_-"

Jesse upped his pace even as he frowned. "Who?"

"Angels," Claire rasped. "She's-as soon as... _escape the Lion's Den, when you leave, we will bring it down_."

It felt like Jesse's spine turned to cold steel. He gripped Claire tighter to him as he sped up into a run. Though he tried to be careful, every step jostled her, but he couldn't slow down. He couldn't let them find him.

Ducking into the woods around the hotel, he didn't so much as stumble in the dark undergrowth, his focus and footing steady as they ran.

Until it heaved underneath him. There was a vibration that built to a roar and he stumbled, rolling to stop from falling on Claire. He held her close as the whole world shook around them. Everywhere there was the sound of trees uprooting, several coming dangerously close to falling altogether. Not too far away from where they had fallen, a deep fissure split across the ground. The horizon seemed to glow through the trees like a miniature sunrise. Terror raced through him, but Jesse just held Claire tighter.

It seemed to go on for an eternity, but then everything just stopped. The air seemed to vibrate with silence. Jesse opened his eyes, looking down at Claire. She wasn't looking back.

"No! No, Claire, c'mon." He felt at her throat and found a pulse, but it didn't ease the panic. It didn't matter if angels were still around, he had to help her. "Ruth! Ruth, I need you right now!"

The blonde popped into existence mere inches away from him, eyes wild and wide.

_[ Please don't be angry with me please don't be angry with me can't stand it when you're angry with me I'll do anything you ask anything just want you happy love you love you love you - ]_

"Jess?"

"Help me!" Trying to sit up as he cradled Claire, his eyes were frantic. "Heal her, she's hurt bad!"

Ruth put her hands on Claire's face, eyes closing and head bowing. Just like with Ben's injuries back in the hospital, they seemed to shimmer before fading away entirely. Ruth gave an all-over shiver and pulled her hands away, giving them a hard flick off to the side and away from her.

_[ hurts hurts hurts hurts hurts so much ]_

Jesse's gaze flickered to Ruth just for a moment before back to Claire. He shifted her higher, her head cradled against his shoulder. He could see her chest move with each breath. "She's okay? She's okay now?"

"Yes," Ruth breathed. Then her head suddenly rose and her face paled as she took a sharp breath. Pure an unadulterated fear poured out of her and into Jesse.

_[ RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN THEY'RE HERE THEY'RE HERE ]_

She didn't even explain herself before once again disappearing from sight.

Jesse's heart jumped immediately to double time and he hefted Claire back into his arms before taking off. He couldn't hear anything behind him, but that meant squat with angels. It seemed like ages before the steps in front of him sharply inclined and he broke free of the trees to stumble on asphalt. The road made easier going, and it wasn't like trees could hide them anyway, so he stuck to it.

Then a glow rose behind him. Giving a whimpered gasp, he chanced a look over his shoulder. Lights. Two lights. _Headlights, idiot._ Stopping short, he turned to face them. The car halted in front of them, and Jesse headed for the driver's door.

"Whoa, dude, you alright?" The driver looked a little younger than Jesse and had a surfboard strapped to the top of his car.

"We're fine," Jesse said, power behind his voice. "You're going to give us a ride to the Phoenix Inn. Help me with her."

"Right, yeah," the man said, quickly rushing forward to ease Claire into the backseat. Jesse got in with her, pulling his phone out once he was settled and the car was moving. He tried calling Ben, but it wouldn't go through. Jesse's stomach turned. He wanted to let Ben know they were okay, but he wasn't about to leave Claire unconscious. It would have to wait until they were at the hotel.

* * *

><p>It was as though the world was coming to an end. Ben had never been in an earthquake before, and outside of an exhibit at a museum once when he was a kid and all the drills they'd been forced to participate in, he hadn't even known how to respond. Luckily Kat and Lucas were quite familiar, and he barely had time enough to throw his bag over his shoulder before they were barreling out of the shaking building as fast as their legs could carry them. He'd watched as a crack through the ceiling chased them all the way out the door, just in time for the building to start to collapse inward on itself.<p>

Sarah hadn't made it. Ellis had to bodily hold Rebecca back from going in after her mother, but there was no way she could have survived that kind of impact. Car alarms were blaring everywhere; the few people who had gotten out of their own homes safely sobbed openly in the street. It was pure chaos, and Jesse and Claire were both gone. The cell networks were down in the area. Ben was completely helpless.

_Amitiel, please,_ Ben prayed hands clasped hard and head bowed as Kat openly cursed up and down about her car having gotten destroyed by a nearby fallen light post. _Help me. Tell me what to do._

"Ben!" The voice was a ways away, but it sure did carry, even over all the noise. "Ben! Where are you?"

Ben would have heard that voice even if he were deaf, and he was pretty sure Jesse's panic was fueling the volume, along with the added bonus of wanting to be heard. Relief flooded him.

"JESS!"

"Ben!" There, shoving past an ambulance, came Jesse. Claire lay in his arms and he had tears on his cheeks. He was covered in blood. Panic shoved the relief right out of Ben.

_No no no no no, no, **no!** Please!_

"Oh god-"

"She's okay, she's fine, I got her," Jesse said quickly as he leaned against Ben. He wanted to hold him so much. "Fuck, what happened?"

"Claire!"

Kat came racing toward them, skin as white as a sheet at the sight of Jesse.

"She's unconscious, don't crowd her!" Ben shouted immediately, but Kat looked very near ready to murder him just at his tone.

"Give her to me!" she commanded with all the force in her voice of a mother bear roaring at an opponent.

Jesse automatically stepped back, his eyes narrowing and arms tightening around Claire. It didn't matter that his arms ached, he wasn't letting her go.

"Kat-" Ben started.

"You idiots are the ones who got her in this mess!" Kat hollered over him. "She's never come this close to being dead before in all the years I've known her, and so help me God, if you killed her, I will _end you!_ Now _give her to me!_ I need to take her to a hospital-!"

"She's fine! Leave us alone!" Jesse roared, but was interrupted by a hand twisting in his shirt.

Claire sucked in a breath like it was her first. The last thing imprinted solidly in her memory being flashes of the last few days; hellish nightmares, the evidence of which still matted her hair, caked on her skin, and hung heavy on the remains of her clothing-but the pain that had become familiar at that point was gone. Her eyes bolted open wide, sharp with animal panic until they focused on the first thing in their path: Jesse's face.

Terror and anger and relief all swirled into one, and Jesse didn't think twice before pressing his mouth to Claire's. Her immediate thought flashed behind her eyes as they closed-that she was dead. She'd died along the way and this was the first thing the afterlife had in store for her, but after a half second's thought, her senses started to return. She kissed him back, but gently put a bloodied hand on his cheek to separate them and put her feet on the ground.

"How-?" She was confused as all hell.

Ben felt like he'd been set adrift. Everything was so loud and confusing, and he had no idea what to feel anymore. Kat, under the influence of Jesse's powerful fury, had turned right around and stomped off to Lucas.

"It's okay," Jesse breathed. "I got you. You're safe. Nothing else matters."

Claire looked up at him as if he'd vanish into her dreamscape at any moment, then slowly began to process the chaos around her including - finally - Ben.

It was the sight of him that made it all real; something in her heart cracked and crumbled. Still clinging to Jess, she reached out for Ben and pulled them both into her with a hard, shuddering sob. Her touch seemed to bring Ben back to himself and his arm immediately circled around her, his whole body aching in empathy.

"_I thought I'd never see you again-_" Claire uttered tightly, though her grip on both of them was stronger than she knew it _should_ have been.

Jesse felt his eyes well up and he gripped her tighter. "We'd _always_ come for you, Claire. No matter what."

"We gotta get outta here," Ben breathed. "This place isn't safe. There'll be aftershocks soon and-"

Another body suddenly pushed through them, grabbing hold of Claire's shoulders; they were _immediately_ removed by her body's hard twist and she shoved them away. Driven by instinct and deep, deep trauma, Claire's eyes were wide and wild, sharp as broken glass on Lucas. The next instant, she recognized him-her gaze softened, but only a degree. Lucas's apparent alarm, however, had been just as quickly quadrupled. "How? Fuck, Claire, you're safe," he breathed, eyes glued on her. "How did you get free?"

"I-I..." Claire looked every bit as stunned as the moment she woke up, her gaze darting from Lucas to the boys, then down at her own body, specifically at her hands. Her clothes looked like they'd come off of a piece of roadkill; shredded and saturated in her own dried blood. Her skin was coated and caked with it, just as it had been for however many days. But her fingers weren't broken anymore. Her back wasn't cut into ribbons that shifted and stretched every time she breathed. Her arm didn't feel like it had a gaping hole in the skin.

"...I don't know." _I should be dead. I couldn't have survived._ Claire found herself staring at the bloody bandage wrapped around her forearm, and immediately started to tear it off. Beneath was nothing but flawless, untouched skin. No surgically removed patch. No tattoo. A very real wave of fear replaced a lot of the blood in her face.

"Jess went out to scope the place out a bit," Ben said in a rush. "He must've found her escaping because of this crazy earthquake."

"It was angels," Jesse said quietly. His eyes focused about chest level. "They saved her. And everyone inside. They must've found a way through."

Lucas stared at him, then back at Claire, then down at the unbandaged skin. He reached out, gentler this time. "We need to get you to an ambulance."

"Angels healed her," Jesse practically snapped. "Everything's fine."

Ben put his hand on Jesse's arm and squeezed, trying to calm his own racing heart and equally pressing desire to leave.

"We'll handle it, Luke," he said. "This town hospital's already gonna be swamped with civilians. We'll make a point of hitting up a clinic on our way outta dodge, but we can't stay here. You'n Kat should get out too, while you can."

"I ain't goin' anywhere!" Kat shouted from a few feet away, having heard the whole conversation. She seemed physically repulsed from moving closer, but her body all but vibrated with obvious displeasure and frustration. "You know s'well as I do that this town's gonna be painted black any second, and somebody's gotta stay behind and clean up the damn mess! So get goin' already!"

Claire's eyes were having trouble taking in the level of carnage. The last thing she remembered clearly was looking on David's face, listening to a voice that wasn't his, spoken by a presence she could _still_ feel like a disease. There were flashes of things since then, but they seemed to be fading like a distant dream. Kat's voice snapped her focus up to the older woman, locking onto her words.

"She's right," she hushed to Ben and Jesse, though her eye contact with Kat didn't break until a moment after. Suppressed terror sparked vividly in her eyes. "They'll be coming-we gotta go."

Jesse didn't need to be told twice. He turned, taking Claire by the arm, and headed for the car.

Ben staggered back just a bit, lip between his teeth as he fished the keys out of his pocket and looked back up at a dazed Lucas.

"I know it's crazy right now, man, but I promise I'll explain when things are calm," he said in a low voice. All the surrounding noises practically drowned out his words. "I'm sorry to leave all this crap in your lap. Be careful, yeah?"

Lucas's lips pressed in a firm line and there was doubt in his eyes, but he nodded. "Will do. And I'm going to hold you to that one."

"We're headin' to Kansas," he said. "I'll be sure to drop by your door after we're done." Giving Kat an apologetic look, he chased after Claire and Jesse.

* * *

><p>Ben couldn't help feel exhausted after the insane four days they'd had, but there was no way he had any intention of stopping until they were far enough away. After changing out of her destroyed clothing and mopping what she could off her skin with a handful of wet-naps, it hadn't taken long for Claire to fall asleep, curled against Jesse in the back seat, his arms wrapped around her tightly. He drove with his foot all but embedded into the floor as he tried to put as much distance between them and La Grande as possible.<p>

It had been six hours, but he wanted to put in at least four more before they made a pit stop. If it were up to him, he'd drive through the night. There was certainly urgency enough to move them. The radio played mutely in the background as they drove on through the darkness:

_"...An estimated $8 billion worth of damage have been done to the streets and buildings in the neighboring towns. Reported death and missing are still on the rise, with the last recorded number in La Grande at 286 dead and over three thousand injured..."_

Sarah had been among them. Ben hardly knew her, but guilt settled like a stone, heavy in his gut. If he hadn't phoned Lucas and demanded that he help, Sarah might have lived.

_Everyone you've ever loved, everyone you've ever known, will burn._

"You know that amulet from Rockville?" he asked aloud, turning the volume down so he didn't have to speak loudly. His eyes lifted to the rearview, catching Jesse's reflection in it.

Jesse didn't look up from staring out the window, his hand gently running through Claire's hair. "Yeah?"

Something in his chest hitched and Ben swallowed. His eyes moved back on the road again and his hand turned the radio completely off. "It was my dad's."

Jesse frowned. "What? Why didn't you say?"

"Because I didn't know until I saw it." Ben let out a slow breath. "That's... why I went out, the way I did. It's like... it was like pulling the cork out of the dam. Everything came back to me."

"You mean the mindwipe? It was reversed?" Jesse's eyes locked on Ben's through the mirror, but the other man wouldn't meet his gaze.

"It was never a wipe," Ben muttered. "It was... more like a wall."

"But now it's gone? You can...remember everything that happened?" _Is it bad?_ hung on Jesse's lips, but he couldn't quite say it aloud.

"Better than that," Ben said, a flicker of hope returning to his voice as he looked up into the mirror again. There was determination in his eyes. "I know how to find my dad."


	36. Episode 19: Sins of Our Fathers

It'd been a long drive that stretched toward forever. She'd been asleep for most of the trip, plagued by extreme exhaustion, both physical and mental, and her rest had not been peaceful. Images and voices of her last week strobed through her dreams, flitting on the edges of her subconscious like hiding ghosts. They didn't even let her wake up as a reprieve. When her body finally came up on its own, they were four hours out of Lawrence, and for the whole drive, she hadn't uttered a single word.

The very first thing she did after arriving to the little roadside inn outside the city was head for the bathroom. She didn't shut the door completely, but it'd been a good hour and a half since she peeled off her change of clothes and submerged herself in a tub full of the hottest water she could stand.

The smell of generic soap and hotel-shampoo saturated the humidity in the tiny tiled room. Her hair was finally clean and untangled, laying wet on her shoulders, which no longer screamed with deep ache or shredded tissue. But the track-marks of the trauma still crisscrossed her entire back like an urban road map of slightly raised skin, slightly darker than the rest. The same went for circles around her wrists and a strangely geometric square the size of a playing card on her arm. It was the first evidence of the ordeal she'd actually _seen_, with her own eyes, in the bathroom mirror.

Now, it was covered by two towels she'd hung from the frame.

When the water had gone cold and she'd started shivering, Claire finally got out. There was no use in hiding forever. A glance around the room found every possible entrance to the room lined with salt. Ben sat on the end of the bed, his skin pale and nearly translucent with his exhaustion, every vein in his hands visible as he held up his face. He looked up at the sound of the bathroom door opening, eyes soft and concerned.

Having been leaning against the wall, Jesse straightened, balancing on the balls of his feet as though he might need to spring into action at a moment's notice.

"How are you?" he said, voice hoarse from under use.

There were so many ways she could answer that question; too many filtered through her mind all at once, resulting in an extended silence. Claire folded her lips between her teeth and tried to focus; the menial task of dropping her towel and replacing it with a pair of shorts and tank sapped a lot of that energy.

"Starving," she finally managed, undercutting everything else with the hard truth. Among the other obvious changes to her body, her clothes were just a little looser. Food just hadn't been a priority yet.

"Everything from the gas station's in the cabinet," Ben told her, his own voice raspy. They hadn't really eaten much in the mad dash to chase her either. The perishables had been thrown out at the one hotel they'd stopped at prior to Oregon, but that still left a considerable amount of car-worthy grub.

"I can go get you something, if you want," he added on the coat-tails of his words. "Anything you want." Claire shook her head after pulling the shirt over her shoulders, then crossed over the paisley carpet toward the kitchenette.

"I don't think Twinkies have ever looked so good," she muttered, mostly to herself. Standing on her toes to reach into the cabinet took a lot more energy than she anticipated, and she wavered on her feet. They were all running on empty.

Jesse's hands came up to rest firmly on her waist, holding her steady. "I'll get it; you sit down and rest." She pushed a slightly longer breath through her nose, holding onto Jesse's hands for a moment before seceding.

"The wards up?" she asked after setting down heavily on the edge of the bed, next to Ben. He nodded, sliding his arm around her hip and moving a hair closer.

"Did them myself, and Jesse spotted me. Nothing's getting into this room unless we say it does."

Jesse was quiet as he brought the convenience store foods over, along with a full glass of water. He handed that first to Claire before opening one of the packages. "Your twinkie, miss," he said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. She returned it, and pulled him down to her other side before dissecting the snack cake into three parts and handing each of them a piece, watching her fingers as she did.

Ben held the piece but didn't eat it. He chewed his lip silently before speaking in a quiet voice, "I think the two of you should stay here."

Looking up from his twinkie, Jesse frowned. "Where are you going?" Hungry as she was, Claire didn't wait to stuff her food in her mouth, but chewing, still had the same look on her face as Jesse, aimed at Ben.

"When I went under, I got my memories back," Ben said in the same low tone. "One of them was a way to find my dad. If we all go, there's a chance we'll be intercepted." His eyes lifted to Claire. "Jesse can take care of you a lot better than I can. And if I can find my dad, he'll know what to do. He and my uncle've killed demons before."

"No, Ben. Please," Jesse said, his throat swelling inside. "We can't separate again."

Claire forced herself to swallow back the same knee-jerk reaction. She took a moment to work Ben's words - not to mention the look on his face - through the haze that was her mental capacity. Finally, keeping her eyes on his face, she gently said: "Why do you think it'd be safer for any of us apart?" She wasn't interrogating; she saw a desperate reasoning in his gaze that a deep part of her understood-but at the same time, parting was the absolute last thing she could process right then.

Ben dropped his eyes away from hers, feeling a clench in his chest as he found the words:

"Because we've made each other weaker." He took a breath before barreling on. "Kat said you'd never gotten into such close calls like this in all the time she's known you, and I think she's right. We slow each other down more times than we help. I'm not sayin' I wanna leave entirely, but I think sometimes..." He put the twinkie down on the bed, bringing the heel of his hand up to twist into his eye. "Sometimes it's safer to split up and meet back. And like I said... Jess can keep you safer than me. He went in there and got you out."

"It was my fault she was there in the first place. They got the jump on me just when you were gone a couple minutes," Jesse said, nearly babbling. Claire closed her eyes, taking a shaken breath and looking up to him.

"No-Abbey was tracking us the whole time Ben was out... Maybe longer." Claire squeezed his thigh, trying to reassure them by sheer instinct, but her insides felt like they were rotting. She knew the two of them had to be feeling the same way, even if it were for different reasons. "She was waiting for me to get far enough away from either of you-" Her voice trailed off a bit, knowing she had to continue with the details, but the words were getting tangled in her throat.

"I don't want to have to do that again," Jesse said, as though he'd hardly heard her. "I will, I'll do it again, I'll do anything for you, but... Ben, please."

Ben pushed his hands through his hair and leaned over his knees. "I have to do this. I have to try."

Claire was fighting the swarm of bees in her stomach as she slid down off the bed in order to meet Ben on eye-level. She was aware of the subtle tremble under her skin, especially with the rough, deadened patches on her wrists caught the fabric of his shorts as she stroked both his thighs-she could hear it in her own voice. "I _know_ you do-" she said it pointedly, making an effort to keep her voice level. On the inside, she was screaming. She could see it on Jesse's face too; on _both_ their faces. "We're just-we're drained, we're stressed, and we're _scared_." Claire was imploring him. Begging, without the words. "Can we just-_please_-sleep tonight. Come back to this in the morning?"

Jesse felt scattered into pieces just thinking of Ben leaving again, of being separated, of everything that could happen and what he might have to do. And then fire erupted in his veins. He gave a sharp cry, falling to his knees. _No, no, not now!_But the pain just rushed through every inch of him, causing him to collapse fully to the ground. On instinct combined with urgency and confusion Claire was at his side the next instant, her eyes shot to Ben in panicked questioning. Ben had also looked up sharply at the cry, his hazel eyes going wide with recognition and fear.

"Jess, don't-"

His face twisted up in pain, he managed to gasp out, "I'm sorry." Then he was gone.

Ben had seen Jesse disappear before, but this time it was different: Ben felt it, in his bones, that Jesse might not come back. He shuddered, feeling his resolve crumbling. Claire was just barely holding it together herself, still hunched over the patch of carpet that had once been Jesse. Her eyes wide as saucers and frayed as live wires, shot to Ben.

"What-where is he? What happened?"

"The deal," Ben croaked. "He has to go to Belial whenever he calls. He found a way to put a trace on him, like a supernatural lasso."

The blood drained from Claire's face. She curled up into herself, blanking into space with her knees crammed to her chest on the floor, where she clenched her eyes shut and started to rock. _The Deal._ The demon from Maine-the same from her cell in Oregon. _His name is Belial._Instinctively Ben slid off the bed and to her side, wrapping his arms around her.

"_Lord of Arrogance, Lord of Pride; Belial the Defiler_," Claire was whispering nonsensically into the bone of her knee. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks; they burned in her eyes, so much that she ground them into the scarred skin behind one wrist-the pressure hurt less. "No no no no, not Jesse, not him, _please_-"

Ben held her closely, feeling his own tears threaten to fall. "They won't kill him. They need him. He'll be okay, he promised." Claire just shook her head, her shoulders tensed with a deep, shaken breath.

The pieces all clicked together with the utterance of that one hated name, remembered from years of Catechism classes and Catholic School. "_No_," she croaked again, sniffed hard and looked up to Ben. "He's his _father_."

Dizziness swept through him like a hurricane. "What?"

* * *

><p>As the pain receded, Jesse breathed deep, his eyes still closed. The feel of the wood floor under him sent an unexpected panic through him. He'd known this was coming, had even wanted to see Belial to wring his neck. And the rage was still there. But he'd underestimated the fear. Now that he was there, he could barely bring himself to face it.<p>

The beach was gone. Instead they were in a windowless room with a fireplace, which was the only source of light. In spite of the crackling fire in the hearth, the room was uncharacteristically cold. Belial sat behind a desk, his hands folded, the light of the fire casting menacing shadows across his face.

"Sit."

Stomach twisting, Jesse clenched his jaw as he stood. He stuck his hands in his pockets. "I'd rather stand."

Belial's gaze hardened. The chair moved back a half-inch without ever being touched, and Jesse was forcefully shoved into it by an invisible hand, making his eyes go wide.

"Your petulance is beginning to aggravate me, boy."

"You tried to kill my fucking girlfriend," Jesse snapped, though he swallowed hard. "I don't want to listen to anything you have to say."

The demon's lips twisted wryly on his face before he glowered at him. "Considering the fact that you killed five of your cadet soldiers without a hint of remorse, and assisted in the slaughter of fourteen vessels and thirty human hosts, I think an attempt at taming - not killing - your pet hunter rates very low on the totem pole."

The color drained from Jesse's face. "I didn't... You-you would have made them do terrible things. They're better off dead." The last word came out as a whisper.

"They assisted in conversions. That was never their true purpose, and you know this," Belial barked. He leaned over the desk, his whole face contorted in restrained rage. "It takes eighteen years to breed a proper soldier, and you killed five of them! And the vessels are even harder to find!" He pulled back and sneered. "I have been kind to you so far, Jesse, but my kindness has a limit. If you have any sense, you won't test it."

"Kind?" he said with a humorless laugh. "I don't want your kindness, I want you to fuck off! And so what if I got rid of a couple of your soldiers?"

Belial's eyes narrowed. "Do you even realize how close to kin you actually are?" His lips twisted again. "And how devoted they were to you? They were children and hadn't even met you yet, but they willingly gave their lives up because you wanted them to die." Jesse's eyes turned to the floor. The demon's brows lifted just slightly with the next question: "Would you feel more remorse if they were people you knew and loved? Say, for instance, your mother?"

Eyes snapping back up, Jesse held his breath a moment before saying, "Don't you fucking dare. Don't even talk about her."

Belial's vague smile lengthened. "Do you think that just because you're away from her that she's safe?"

Jesse pushed to his feet, leaning over the desk. "Fuck you. I pulled Claire from the heart of your stronghold. We got Ben's sister from you. You try anything, and I will end you."

Belial remained silent a moment. That same invisible hand slammed into Jesse, throwing him back against the far wall and lifting him. The force of it was so strong that it pressed all the air out of his lungs and strained on his ribs. Belial stood casually from his chair, coming around and strolling up to him.

"Last I checked, boy, this body was on loan." The corners of his mouth lifted in a thin-lipped smile, and his eyes rolled back until they were white. "Yours, on the other hand."

Jesse struggled desperately for breath, hardly able to do more than clench his fists and strain his expression. His eyes couldn't look away from Belial, bugging slightly.

"It took three hundred years in order for you to be conceived, Jesse," Belial said in a low voice. "Finding a compatible mate, finding a compatible host; the devil's in the details, but I am incredibly patient. If I have to wait another three hundred years, I will. So you _will_help me, or I will kill you and make your pets and mother watch."

Jesse tried to swallow, tears welling up in his eyes. His whole body quivered, terror and uncertainty drowning him. _Please_, he mouthed. The pressure on his chest released, but he wasn't let down.

"You have something to say?" Belial prompted.

Jesse's gasps for air held a hitch in them. "I'm sorry," he whimpered. "I'm sorry I killed them."

"Sorry doesn't fix your mess, son," Belial replied. He brought his hand up from where it rested at his side and snapped his fingers, his smile turned slightly maniacal. "But I think the lives of those children in Chackbay should cover it."

"No. No, you can't!" Jesse squeaked. "We had a deal!"

"The deal was, I bring them back and you come when I call. There was no stipulation that they remain alive indefinitely."

The door opened a few feet away and two men entered. Their eyes were black as pitch, and they bowed their heads in the presence of Belial.

"Go to Chackbay, Louisiana. Kill the children with my mark, and bring me back their baby teeth. Make sure to clean the sites after you're finished; no sulfur, no blood."

"Sir," they answered, bowing again in unison before blinking out of sight.

Jesse's heart dropped, but he disappeared in an instant, desperate to get to the children first. Since they had taken every child home, he knew exactly where to go. Except the first house was completely empty. There was a woman in the second, and when Jesse demanded where her child was, she said at school.

"Forget I was here," he snapped before disappearing to the school's empty hallway. And then he hesitated. He didn't know the kids' schedules, and he didn't know where to even start. Would the demons know where to find them?

A scream from the main office made up his mind for him. He ran and burst through the door in time to see one of the demons snap a secretary's neck.

"Get the fuck out of here!" he snarled, and the demon went out in a column of smoke. Jesse's eyes fell instantly on the principal's ajar office door. He sprinted through...to find small bodies on the floor.

"No. No, no, no, please," he babbled as he fell to his knees, hands reaching to help, but the children's necks were skewed at odd angles. There was no doubt they were dead. He looked up, meeting the black eyes of the principal. Then the man's head tipped back and black smoke poured out. The empty body sagged down into his chair, but it was clear he hadn't been possessed long. His eyes fluttered open, wide and glazed.

Jesse knew he should stay. He should figure out how to help smooth things over, say the right things to the right authorities to keep anyone else from getting hurt. But he couldn't. Bile boiled in his stomach and he couldn't stand to be in the same room as his failure any longer. He needed to be somewhere safe, and he found himself in the backseat of the GTO.

Too slow to get the door open, he vomited up what little had been in his stomach. Oddly, it made the guilt hit harder, and he took off his shirt to try to mop it up some, his hands shaking hard. He couldn't go back into the hotel, not right now. He felt like he was splintering, and he couldn't do that in front of Claire, not after what she'd been through. But he needed someone to hold, so bad it hurt. Taking out his phone, it took him a couple tries to get Ben's number right.

* * *

><p>Claire's eyes closed tightly again as another wave of tears drowned them. Her head shook again before it just hung between her shoulders. "In the Bible, Belial is the master of Legion-the armies of Hell. In scripture, he's known as the Defiler... He was <em>there<em>, Ben," her voice cracked. She was shivering. "He _had_to've been the one-the one who had Jesse made."

"All the more reason he wouldn't kill him," Ben tried to reason, just barely keeping the shake out of his tone. He rubbed his hands along her back and shoulders, trying to reassure her as much as he was trying to reassure himself. "That kind of thing doesn't happen regularly. It would be stupid for the demon to kill him."

A deep shudder ran from the top of Claire's neck to her feet, and she felt frigid down to her soul. Inside, she was praying for Jesse to appear in the space in front of her, which she stared at, unblinking.

"I think that's what they took me for..."

Again, Ben found himself derailed. He felt as though his mind was separating from his body and floating away, watching from high above them.

"What?"

Claire was having trouble breathing normally; it came in uneven shudders that were just barely on the edge of broken sobs. "The way he spoke to me, the things the Nephilim said- I'm 'stronger than the others' That it's an 'honor to be chosen'." Her throat tightened around a swallow that felt like a brick was lodged in her throat. She sat back from her knees and pushed the sleeve up from her forearm, where a patch of healed, but sunken, darker skin lay in place of a permanent talisman of protection. Claire showed it to Ben. Her voice seemed to lose all of it's strength.

"None of those Vessels were possessed. Jesse's mother _was_."

All the pieces snapped into place and the moment they did, Ben felt like he might throw up. The way the demon had taken interest in Jesse back in Maine, the way Jesse spoke about the demon with such contempt as though he'd known him. The very idea of Belial infesting Claire, trying to make Jesse a little demonic brother or sister that he could have control over -

"That's not gonna happen," he vowed. "Nothin's comin' near you. Not ever again."

The phone buzzed in his pocket before he could find much steam, and Ben nearly dropped it in his haste to get it out. Jesse's face flashed across the screen, followed by the first two notes of the ringtone, but Ben flipped the answer on and swiftly cut it off.

"Where are you?" he asked quickly, looking directly into Claire's eyes as he spoke. Her gaze was fearful, but with a tiny flare of hope.

"_I-I-I-I'm sorry,_" Jesse stammered, his voice nearly blubbering. "_The-the car. I- Don't bring Claire. P-please._"

Ben chewed his lips viciously as he carefully retracted himself from Claire before putting his hand over the receiver.

"He's downstairs. I've gotta go and make sure he's all right."

Her hope grew, but at the same time so did the fear. A thousand scenarios flashed behind her red-rimmed eyes, all born from the last few days of her life, and none of them good. Instinct and paranoia threw words like _ambush_ and _leverage_into her mind, and in her current state, Claire couldn't get rid of them. Her hand clamped down on his shirt and her lips parted, but her voice refused to work; it was all written on her face.

"There's a anti-possession charm in my bag," Ben told her, his face reflecting similar fears. "I want you to put it on and salt the door behind me. I'll be back up in ten minutes, I promise."

She didn't let go, not for another heartbeat or two, but finally she untangled her fingers from his sleeve and nodded stiffly. The gesture felt incredibly forced. He leaned in and kissed her, the heat and pressure behind it bordering on desperation or perhaps the fearful kiss of a man about walk onto a battlefield, before pulling his other hand off the receiver to speak into it:

"Be right there."

* * *

><p>Ending the call, Jesse wrapped his arms around himself, the world seeming to narrow. He stared at the front seats without really seeing, not even hearing the door open. But his eyes snapped to Ben as he slid in, tears finally running down his cheeks.<p>

"I d-did everything wrong," he sobbed. Ben crawled into the backseat with him, instinctively pulling Jesse against him and holding on tightly.

"Breathe," he encouraged.

Jesse curled into him, breathing though each one came with a shudder. He kept his eyes open wide, afraid of seeing the bodies when he closed them. "He-he killed them. All the kids. I c-c-can't even make a deal right!"

Ben's embrace tightened, fear and worry twisting into a mass in his stomach.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "It's gonna be okay."

Shaking his head furiously, Jesse said, "No, no, he's gonna kill me, or worse. He's gonna hurt you and Claire and my mom and I can't- _I can't stop him_."

Everything inside Ben hurt. Claire and Jesse both were suffering, and he had the ability to stop it. It was just like Amitiel had said. The idea of getting the gun was starting to lose appeal in favor of the easier answer, but they were in Kansas. He had to try.

"Listen to me," Ben murmured, his hand gripping Jesse's shoulder tightly. "I can fix this. Not the ones lost, but... I can fix this. But you gotta keep it together. You gotta keep Claire safe while I go."

Jesse bit his lip hard to fight back the sobs, though his chest ached horribly and he had to cough a couple times. He leaned heavily against Ben. _Please don't leave me._But he held it back, because Ben asked him to. "Okay," he whispered.

Ben pulled back, lifting Jesse's chin and tilting his head back to kiss him. Jesse didn't pull away, but it felt too much like an unearned gift. He'd dragged the two of them through this mistake and now Ben was going to leave to clean up after his mess. And he was going to have to force himself to be strong for Claire when right then he didn't think he had the strength to stand.

When Ben finally pulled back he didn't pull away, his hands holding Jesse's face. "I love you. Don't blame yourself for what happened. It was demons who did this to us, not you, okay?"

Jesse's eyes met his, wide and vulnerable. "He's angry. I killed his people. I did it for Claire, so I know it's right, but... I killed so many people."

Ben's thumbs stroked along the apples of Jesse's cheeks. "They were suffering. You set them free. The angrier he is, the better you're doing. Don't ever forget that." He kissed him again. "We need to go sit with Claire now. She needs us."

Swallowing hard, Jesse nodded. Then he bit his lip. "I threw up," he said quietly.

"I'll clean it up," Ben reassured him. "Go on up. I'll be right behind you."

Jesse felt the tears threaten again but he sniffed them back and crawled out of the car. He walked on autopilot to the room, and it was only when he got to the door that he remembered the lines of salt. His stomach twisting, he closed his eyes and focused on the room's interior before disappearing on the spot.

* * *

><p>Jesse slept fitfully, one leg hitched over Claire, his arms wrapped around her but gripping onto Ben's. Ben hadn't slept for two days, and it was quickly beginning to look as though it would become three. There was just too much on his mind. With the utmost care, he eased free and pushed up to sitting with the intention of getting out of the bed.<p>

"Unless you're about to piss yourself, don't you dare." Claire's voice was thick with exhaustion and purposefully quieted, but she hadn't been asleep. There was also a trace of something haunted in her bleak attempt to keep her plea light.

Ben turned to look at her, his expression drawn and tired.

"I'd never leave without telling you," he said quietly. "Not after last time. You know that."

"I know," she whispered back. His eyes barely caught the red glint of the digital clock on the bed stand, lacking light and lustre. She was sure hers reflected just as little. "But you can't blame me."

Ben settled on the ground next to the bed before finding her hands. Wordlessly he kissed them, over and over, following the inside of her wrist and up to her fingers. She watched him, swallowing thickly.

"I don't want you to go," she breathed, unable to hold the words back, but they weren't quite pleading. "But I understand the look in your eyes." Claire recognized it as something she'd seen before in her own gaze, looking back from a mirror.

Ben felt his heart stutter in his chest. He swallowed hard, closing his eyes as he pressed his cheek into her hand.

"I'm coming back," he promised. "He might not even be alive anymore, Claire. Hunters aren't exactly known for living past the age of 30." They were all getting close to that age the more he thought about it, but he pushed that little gem of logic down as far as it would go. "If I can find the Colt, I can kill the demon. Missouri will know. Once I have it, we can end this, and go back to the way things were." He swallowed again. "And when it's over, when the light goes out of that bastard's eyes, I'm gonna marry you."

Claire felt a surge of overwhelming warmth spread through her body, which shuddered in her breath and closed her eyes for a moment. The notion flashed through her head, tightening her leg's grip on Jesse behind her, and drawing her thumb across Ben's cheek. But as therapeutic as it was, it also seemed more like a good dream than a potential reality.

"I'll hold you to that," she said softly. For some reason, letting such a thought linger felt a lot like her internal prayers while she was chained in a room with a boy named Issac. Watching Ben go was necessary, but it was still incredibly painful. Ben kissed her wrists again, opening his eyes to look up at her.

"I'm counting on it." He tried to smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"So what's going to happen to me?" Jesse's voice was nearly unrecognizably hoarse, and he didn't so much as twitch from where he was wrapped around Claire. Ben visibly startled but when he tried to formulate an answer, nothing came. Claire automatically pressed her hand and arm over the one that was draped around her middle, squeezing herself close as possible. She was oddly relieved that he was awake.

"I'm not letting you go-ever. That's what."

The tension in his arm eased. He nuzzled against the side of her neck. "Okay." Reaching out blindly, he found Ben's arm. "Same here."

Ben swallowed and nodded, still unable to find any words. He brought his other hand up to rest on Jesse's where it rested on his arm. Claire brushed his elbow with her fingertips, melting a bit as Jesse's breath filtered through her hair and across her neck, her eyes tired, but still set on Ben's face.

"Come back to bed," she whispered. "Nothin' matters beyond these ugly-ass sheets tonight."

Ben gave a breath of a laugh before nodding, pushing up to standing again and easing back into the bed. With a small smile, Jesse pressed a kiss just under her ear. A wave of warmth, need, and sheer humanity swept over him that he hadn't felt since she'd been taken from them. They'd been sharing a bed all night, but only now did he feel connected.

After they had finished taking comfort in each others' embrace, every inch of Claire's skin tingled, every nerve ending lit up and blazing as she tried to catch her breath. His chest still heaving with breaths, Jesse slid off Claire, burrowing in the space between them. Exhaustion weighed down his limbs but his veins raced with heat and he didn't think he could sit still. Snuggling down further, he nuzzled Ben's side before giving him a wet raspberry, causing Ben's shoulder to shudder with silent laughter.

Claire wanted to curl in, wanted to laugh with them... Hell, she wanted to open her eyes, but there was nothing left; her batteries were drained. She let her hand flop on her stomach, the other was caught somewhere under Jesse, but it didn't register. Jesse felt it, though, shifting her arm from under him and threading his fingers through hers. His smile faltered as his wrist brushed hers, smooth and ridged in a completely unfamiliar way. From the scars. Letting go of her hand, he crawled over her, bodily nudging her against Ben before draping his arm over them both.

Ben only looked up when he'd felt the brief absence of heat, his brow furrowing slightly, but once the adjustment was over he settled again. The tension in the room had fizzled out into nothing, and exhaustion was currently keeping his worrying at bay. He would deal with the trip in the morning; for now he was satisfied wrapped up in the people he loved.

* * *

><p>Jesse woke when he felt the shift of the mattress as Ben got to his feet. He didn't move but opened his eyes, watching over Claire's shoulder as Ben padded quietly to the bathroom. Claire hadn't woken up, which was a surprise in itself, but she'd been through a lot. And he supposed last night might have something to do with it.<p>

Looking down at her, the iron that had settled in the pit of his stomach dissipated, but only for a moment. In the morning light, the scars along her arm and back were only too clear. Swallowing, he slid carefully from the bed as he heard the shower start up. Claire deserved some sleep, but Jesse had to talk to Ben before he went. He tugged on his shirt and shorts and then waited until the water stopped. Then he knocked lightly on the door.

"Can I come in?" he said, barely above a whisper.

The door opened without a sound, and Ben's face appeared briefly in the space between the door and the paneling before he pulled back to let him in. There was still steam in the air and the mirror was fogged up. By habit Jesse's eyes flitted down Ben's figure, stopping where the towel hung low on his hips before darting up.

"Morning," he said, smiling, though the nerves showed in his eyes.

Ben gave him a small smile and pushed the door shut, going back to applying shaving cream to his face.

"Morning," he said quietly.

Jesse watched him in silence, taking in every little thing. The way the ends of his wet hair curled against his neck, how he very purposefully split the lathered shaving cream in his palm so there were equal parts, the slight hunch of his back that he always had when he was tired. Jesse stepped a little closer behind him, his hand resting lightly on Ben's arm.

"Come back as soon as you can, alright?"

Ben met Jesse's eyes in the mirror, seeing the nerves in his eyes but knowing that his own conflicting emotions were very obvious on his face. He swallowed and nodded.

"'Course I will. I don't _want_to go..." He replied in the same hushed voice. "If it wasn't about my dad, I wouldn't be going at all..."

Jesse's grip tightened on his arm. "No, it's fine, I understand," he said quickly. "I just... I'm worried." He swallowed hard, his eyes avoiding Ben's in the mirror. "That Belial will call me."

Ben's hand tightened on the razor in his hand, taking a slow breath and letting it out before speaking. "It'll be okay. I've dealt with a group of demons on my own before. I can handle it. And I've still got my tatt, so I'll be fine."

A jolt ran through Jesse and he looked up sharply. "What do you mean? What're you gonna do?"

Ben brought the razor up to his cheek and dragged it across the surface of his jaw. "I don't know yet," he said quietly. "First I'm gonna find my dad. That's about the limit of my plans right now." He ran the faucet and slid the blade under it, bringing it back up again. "Claire told me. That he's your father."

Jesse stopped breathing, his eyes locked on Ben, looking for something. "How'd she know?"

"They told her," Ben murmured quietly. "Or well... she figured it out, based on some of what's happened."

Swallowing again, Jesse said, "Does it matter?"

Ben scoffed quietly, turning to look over his shoulder at him. His look, combined with the white mass of foam on his face, was borderline flippant.

"Did you somehow black out all of last night or something?"

Jesse looked down sheepishly, his grip loosening on Ben's arm, going back to the soft touches of before. "Sorry. I know." He took a breath before plowing on. "He's going to call me soon, though. We... we didn't part exactly well and he-he's been putting the pressure on. I'll have to go. But that'll leave Claire alone."

The words were barely out of Jesse's mouth before Ben said, "Don't you dare leave her alone." His voice as sharp as the razor's blade. "Don't you dare."

That made Jesse pull away, his expression strained as he looked at the wall. "He said he'd kill my mom." He could barely get the words out. "I can't- She doesn't know anything, she wouldn't be able to protect herself."

"Then take Claire and go to your mom's, but don't you dare leave her alone right now, Jesse," Ben said with ferocity. "So help me God, if she gets hurt because you've left her alone, I'll never forgive you."

A sob burst from Jesse, surprising even himself, but he quickly bit his lip to hold it back, nodding as he stared at the floor. "I-Is there a...a bus or...?" he squeaked out.

Ben's tone quieted at Jesse's immediate response, his face pinching in thought as he considered the options.

"No, take the GTO. I can get another car. Claire would kill me if I went off with it anyway. Just..." He sighed, wishing he could rub his face, and feeling rather foolish that he was having this conversation with less than half of his first cheek cleaned.

_And if he calls me before we get there?_ But he already knew the answer to that. He had to stay with Claire, no matter the consequence. His chest was heaving in desperate little gasps, but there wasn't nearly enough air. The room was too hot, too stuffy, and his head was spinning, even as he tried telling himself to get a grip, that none of that stuff might even happen. His mom might be fine. _Might, might, might._

"Hey..." Ben said, his voice going soft as he put down the razor and slid his hands to Jesse's shoulders. "I just-... I don't want her to be alone. They..." Nerves jumped in his stomach. "They took her ink off. A charm is only as good as the rope it's on. If it were any other time, you know I wouldn't make you choose, but... Claire can't be left alone. Not after everything that's happened. If you wanna jump ahead and find some way to get your mom into a panic room or something, by all means go. I can wait an hour. I just can't... you can't leave her, Jess. She needs someone with her right now. It's dangerous for her to be alone."

"The-the-then don't le-leave us," Jesse gasped between breaths. "H-how'm I supposed to b-build a room I can't get into? And he-he's stronger than me."

"Nobody's stronger than you, Jesse Turner," Ben said, his voice holding no room for argument as he took Jesse's face in his hands. "You're legendary. You can end all of Heaven with a thought. The world could split apart tomorrow if you wanted it to. I _believe_in you, d'you hear me? So you take care of your mom, and take care of our girlfriend, because God save anyone who makes you mad."

Jesse shook his head, his tears finally spilling over. "I can't. I _tried_. I can't control him, I can't do anything to him. He doesn't need me. He said he doesn't need me and he-he almost killed me."

Forgetting himself, Ben pushed Jesse against the door, pinning him there and kissing him hard. The towel slid dangerously low on one hip, but he didn't care. Jesse gave a sob even as he kissed him back, but the press was too suffocating, too much like how it felt pinned against that wall by his father, unable to move. He whimpered, his knees sagging. Ben merely adjusted his embrace, arms wrapping around him to hold him up. After a few more moments he pulled back, pressing his forehead against Jesse's.

"Don't be scared," Ben whispered. "You're a hunter now. Hunters aren't afraid."

His face burning with shame, Jesse tried to gulp down his tears and force strength into his legs. His whole life, he'd never really thought about dying. It was a possibility, sure, but his powers had always been there to get him out of it. They weren't now. With Belial, he might as well be human. He'd never felt terror like this before. He didn't feel like a hunter; he felt like a child, playing at games. "I c-can't stop. I-I-I'm sorry."

His words were ended by the faintest knock on the door. There was no question who it was, and the shame burned even hotter in Jesse's stomach. He wiped furiously at his eyes, his face, and to his confusion his hands came away with white foam. Ben pulled him away by the shoulder, opening the door for Claire.

She stood there, wrapped in the sheet from the bed like a toga that'd been half-torn off, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, but heavier with haunting memories and worries and words she'd obviously heard through the door, but somehow she managed to keep it away from her expression.

"You took all the towels," she said, meaninglessly and with her voice barely over her breath.

"You just want to see me naked before I go," Ben tossed back, the faintest smile twisting in the corner of his mouth.

Jesse's stomach clenched at the mention of Ben leaving, but he concentrated on wiping his running nose and the rest of the shaving cream off into the crook of his elbow. "Sorry we woke you," he said, his voice scratchy.

Claire kept her eyes on Ben for a long moment, even as she pulled a hand towel from the rack and gently pressed it into Jesse's hand, then grazed his shoulder with a kiss and a few whispered words about taking a slow breath. He just wanted to disappear, but Ben and Claire probably would object, so he just nodded his thanks. He wiped off his face fully and then got most of what was on his arm and hands, his eyes never quite drifting above their knees.

"I think you should check on your mom," Claire finally said, facing Jesse. Her tone was gentle, but also genuine. "Take the salt-tape, ward up her house, and come back-it'll give us time."

His bottom lip gave a quiver before he pressed it in a hard line. Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded again, sliding past her to put on some clothes. Claire watched him go, then turned her eyes back to Ben and his mussed shaving-cream job. Her lips pressed tight.

"He's allowed to be afraid..." she started, very quietly. Ben turned back to the mirror and picked up his razor again, working quickly to make up for lost time.

"I didn't say he wasn't allowed to be," Ben replied in a similar tone. "But when he lets it consume him, he shuts down. I was trying to help."

"I know." Claire sighed through her words, and occupied her hands by untangling herself from the sheet, then reached for Jesse's shirt hanging on the towel-hook. "I just think that it's better to recognize it than ignore it. It's his _mom_, for Chrissake." Buttoning the shirt, she looked at him again, more than simple empathy in her eyes. There was also a memory there, of how insane Ben had gone himself when it was his mother on the line.

He knew without asking what she was inferring, and couldn't quite meet her eyes in the mirror. Belial had brought up Jesse's mother for the same reason he'd had Abbey hurt his: because of that driving instinct to protect the people he loved. Whether or not Jesse had seen his mother in god knew how long, Ben knew what that feeling felt like.

"Which is why I said I'd sit and wait for him to go and come back before leaving," Ben pointed out. "And why I suggested he take you there with him. What do you want me to say, Claire?"

"Did you _see_ his face?" she took a step closer to keep her volume as low as possible. "He's terrified and thinks himself worthless because of it. You an'I've had a lot of practice at dealing with fear, but for the first time in his life, he's trying to function along side it. If he's gonna get past 'shutting down', he needs to know that it's part of the whole package." She glanced over her shoulder toward the door, then back at the side of Ben's face. "He _idolizes_ you; _you're_his example. If he thinks you never get scared, he's gonna try to live up to that, and he's gonna fail."

Ben scowled a little down at the sink, turning the faucet back on and bending a bit in order to rinse off before he stood upright and turned to look at her.

"Why would he idolize me?" he said lowly. "He's already perfect. He can do everything better than me and more. What am I?"

Claire's brows knitted together in the middle in a clear mix of confusion and disbelief. "_Blind_, apparently." She folded her arms below her breasts and leaned closer. "You're everything he wants to be, Ben. He doesn't understand how you got to be the way you are, but he loves you more than you're apparently willing to see. Now he's watching you leave, promising to stay by my side while a demon _king_is probably going after his mother, because you told him to... how can you not see that level of devotion?"

Ben swallowed hard, dropping his gaze and feeling a horrible twist in his stomach. He wanted so badly to ask her to come with him. It seemed like the easier option, but Jesse was in just as much need of someone to stablize him as Claire was. They could balance each other. They didn't need him; even after Claire's explanation for how Jesse saw him, he still couldn't understand _why_.

"Just..._open your eyes_. That's all I'm askin'." Her voice had fallen, even if the lower volume wasn't needed. Claire punctuated the statement with a sigh against his bare shoulder, then pressed her cheek against it. "Realize how much you mean to him. And to me." Her lips pressed on his shoulder, lingering there. His arms wrapped around her on instinct, tightening as he pressed his face against her hair. The horrible twist in his stomach tightened further.

"I'll try and keep my bright ideas to myself," he murmured. Claire's nostrils flared slightly with a nasal sigh.

"Just go over them in your head once before they jump out," she added, purposefully making her voice a little lighter. It wasn't just him-the tunnel vision and thin brain-to-mouth filter seemed to be a curse of male-kind. "I'm gonna go make sure he's okay."

Ben nodded before letting his arms go loose, pausing long enough to turn her mouth up for a brief kiss, which she needfully returned.

Jesse's over-shirt hung off Claire's shoulders like a wet tent on a single pole with only two buttons fastened at her middle as she slid out through the bathroom door. Just as Jesse was fitting on his last shoe, a pair of bare feet circled in front of him. A couple fingertips gently pushed through his hair before she dipped her head to catch his eyes.

"Look'it me, Baby," she whispered. The look on his face when he left the bathroom was exactly what she had expected, after the muffled conversation she'd heard through the door. It made her heart ache.

"I'm fine," he said quietly, straightening to meet her eyes.

For some reason, that only made it worse, but Claire kept that as far away from her face as possible. Her lips pressed together for a moment, the only reaction she couldn't temper.

"No, you're not-you shouldn't be expected to be."

His throat seemed to close up and he had to swallow a couple times before he could speak. "I have to be," he said gruffly. "We don't have time."

Claire crouched down with her hands on his knees, balancing on the balls of her feet. Her eyes never left his-they were so vividly blue, electric in the terror he was just barely hiding. "You're right-we don't. But I can't let you leave until I know you understand something very important." Claire's eyes were imploring, _begging_ to get through that sharp crust that his break-down with Ben had put in place. "If you're afraid-" and she knew he was. They all were, whether some weren't willing to admit it. "That's _okay_. Bravery isn't never being scared; it's doing what you have to do _while_ being scared. If you just shove it down, you'll ignore instincts that you _need_to listen to." She rolled her lips, close to tears.

Jesse felt pinpricks at his eyes again, but blinked hard, trying to keep it back. He really had to steel himself if he was going to face his mom, and he had a lot to do in little time. "Okay," he said, cupping her cheek in his hand, which she naturally leaned into. She shouldn't have to be the one making him feel better.

Claire turned her head to place a kiss on the center of his palm, then stood up straight, gently pulling him in with her arms curled around his shoulders. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered onto the crown of his head, her eyes closed to hold back the sting. "I love you, and I'll be right here when you get back."

His chest hitched and he leaned against her. His arms wrapped around her, a little tighter than he meant to. He held his breath to let the ache fade. "Thank you."

Claire didn't say anything for a long moment, only brushed her fingers through his hair and focused on his grip around her. It was comforting on a deep level, and the absolute last thing she wanted was to let him go-but there was no other choice.

"Tell her to stay in her house and make it safe," Claire finally breathed, but didn't let him go. "We'll drive straight there."

Nodding against her, Jesse finally forced himself to pull back, his arms dropping from her. He still didn't know what exactly he was going to say to his mom, but thinking about it just made it worse. He'd go there and do what needed to be done, that was all he could do.

* * *

><p>Jesse generally avoided the salt-tape, and it looked like it was with good reason. While he'd avoided crossing any lines as he fortified his mom's home, just the contact setting them up still had him nauseated and shaky. Though that might not be the only reason.<p>

He sat on the bed, his eyes following Ben as he readied himself to go out the door for the last time. The air felt heavy and static.

Ben could feel their eyes on him, like invisible hooks latching onto him. He felt physically torn.

"Keep us posted," Claire said quietly from her lean on the dresser. She'd fallen into the quiet, cool calm of logic, occupying her mind with things that needed to be done-instead of focusing on the gnawing ache in her chest. She'd only recently addressed the fact that she lost her phone on the way to Oregon; they'd have to pick another one up on the way to Jesse's mother's.

Steeling himself, Jesse finally got to his feet, walking over to Ben. "Twice a day, alright?" He didn't hesitate as he pulled Ben into a tight hug. Ben's arms tightened around him to the point where it almost hurt, pressing his face into Jesse's shoulder.

"Promise," he said thickly.

Jesse swallowed back the urge to beg Ben to take them with. "I love you," he said quietly, his voice a little strained. "So don't take your time."

Claire felt a stab behind her eyes, and they closed but only for a moment. When they opened again, she forced the burn away, and set on the two of them. She wanted to throw her arms around both, but doing so would ultimately give Ben leave to go. Subconsciously, her feet just wouldn't move.

"I won't." Ben's hand moved up into Jesse's hair and twisted in the strands. "Be safe, both of you."

Every part of him hurt when he forcibly pulled himself away, his eyes landing on where Claire was settled on the dresser. The desire to leave felt like it was fading with every minute that he was there, but he couldn't leave without holding her one more time. Claire draped her arms around his shoulders when he closed the distance between them. Her fingers twisted in his shirt as she breathed him in. Once again, her eyes clenched shut as he hugged her just as tightly as he'd held Jesse. His chest hitched.

"Don't forget what I said," he told her, his voice deep and raspy.

A faint smile twitched against his ear, despite the shaky quality her voice took on. If it were possible, she hugged him a little tighter. "Might forget the longer you're gone-so make it quick."

Ben took a deep breath and finally pulled back, dropping his gaze to the floor as he moved to the door, shouldered his bag, and moved through it.

* * *

><p>The farther he drove away from the hotel, the more anxious Ben found himself, but he swallowed it down and focused on staying under the speed limit. The last thing he needed right then was for the cops to start trailing him, or a repeat of what had happened in Pennsylvania what felt like forever ago.<p>

"They'll be fine," he told himself for the tenth time that hour. "Gotta do this. Suck it up."

He turned the radio up a little louder, eyeing the street signs as he passed them. "Delaware Street, Delaware Street..."

It was a tiny little house on the corner. There was a wrap-around porch and an herb garden, along with a small wooden sign just to the left of the mailbox: **_Missouri Mosley, Reader and Advisor_**.

He parked partway up the block and got out, feeling nerves jump in his gut. With a steadying breath he headed up the walkway, marching up the steps and raising a hand to knock on the door.

He was being watched, however, from the side of the porch.

"We're 'round back," came a thickly honeyed female voice; a darker-skinned woman in her twenties was standing beneath the shadow of a wisteria tree. A glass of peach iced tea was sweating in her hand, but otherwise, it hadn't been touched. She looked him over, canting her head.

"You're taller than I expected."

"You Missouri?" Ben asked, his voice tinted with disbelief. For some reason, he'd imagined someone older. Had Dean met her when she was a kid or something and saved her on a hunt, like he'd done for him and his mom?

The woman snorted pleasantly, shaking her head. "Tia. You comin'?" On bare feet, she turned and started through the grass around the house.

They rounded the corner, and the back yard came into view. The grass was taller here; it would have tickled Ben's ankles had he been wearing something shorter. On her knees in a patch of pink and white dahlias close to the house was an older woman, gray hair pinned back in a messy bun, elbow-deep in what looked like peat moss. She looked up as Ben and Tia approached her. "Well," she said pleasantly, "I didn't think you'd get here so fast! I could feel his nerves all the way up the street," she added to Tia. "Help me up, honey, let me get a look at him."

Tia grasped her hand with both of hers and the older woman got to her feet with a grunt, slapping her hands against her jeans to get the dirt off.

"Missouri Mosely. I'd shake if I'd had time to wash up. It's Ben, isn't it?"

Ben swallowed hard and nodded, trying hard to put a leash on the bees nest that seemed to have settled in his stomach. _Psychic, Braeden,_ he told himself. _Be cool._

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, putting on a polite smile. "I was told that you could find people. I don't really have a lot of money on me, and I don't wanna pass you a card, but whatever your rates are I can make it up in about four hours if you point me in the direction of a pool hall in town-"

Missouri threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, honey, don't you worry about a thing," she said, giving Ben's shoulder a gentle pat. "If I didn't charge Dean Winchester, I certainly won't charge his son. You're such a nice young man," she added, almost to herself. "You look so much like him, but you act more like Sam. Much more respectful. _Dean_didn't offer me a penny..."

The nest of bees in his stomach started to swarm, causing Ben's breath to hitch as he swayed on his feet. It was really happening. She knew without even asking that he was looking for his father, and if she knew that-

"He ain'around here," Tia injected, cutting off Ben's thoughts as she handed her grandmother the drink.

"Thank you, baby," Missouri said, and took a small sip of the tea. "But here, let's talk inside. Not quite autumn yet, this heat is miserable." She headed to the back door, beckoning them to follow her. The screen door banged shut behind her.

It was quieter in the house; the thick carpet seemed to soak up all background noise, save for the distance sound of passing cars outside and the quiet _click-click_of the ceiling fan above them. The place smelled of peppermint and old books, and sunlight that streamed through open windows; a fresh breeze fluttered past the curtains, rustling the windchimes outside. Missouri ducked under a beaded curtain, sitting heavily on one of the cushy couches beyond the back door. She took a handkerchief out of one pocket and dabbed her brow, sighing. "Well, that's better. Have a seat, Ben."

Before Ben could sit down, much less open his mouth, she added, "I know you're nervous, honey, but try and settle down. I'm an old woman, I can't handle the suspense." She offered him a smile, but the anxious look Ben gave her in return drew a sigh out of her. "Goodness, you young people. Always in such a hurry."

Ben opened his mouth again, and she held up a hand. "I don't know where he is _exactly_, but we could get you the general whereabouts. Any more than that and I'm gonna need something of his to track with, which I know you haven't got. That boy always did clean up well after himself. But honey, I'd be careful if I were you. Dean Winchester is a broken man, and you've already got so much on your plate. Just don't go gettin' your hopes up."

Everything inside Ben's chest ached at the mental images Missouri conjured up for him. "I just wanna get the gun from him," Ben blurted out. "I know he has it. Everything else doesn't matter." _He didn't want me,_Ben finished in his head, feeling pain welling up behind his eyes as he gave the older psychic a thin-lipped smile. "Got a job to do, after all. Any bit of information'll help."

"Oh, Ben," Missouri started, reaching out but stopping short, her hand dropping back to her side. "How about I leave you and Tia to it?" she suggested, tone gentle. "It's been a long mornin' weedin', and I need a few minutes-" Ben immediately felt a rise of panic, his lips parting for a breath to interrupt, but she cut him off yet again. "Oh, you stop your worrying. She's shaping up just fine, just as capable as I am. I'm letting her take over all my business, it's not a special case. I'll be right upstairs if you need me."

Her words did little to reassure him, but Ben forced a nod anyway, his eyes tracking the older woman as she hefted herself out of the couch cushions and started toward the stairs. Tia also remained where she was, leaning against the counter, her full lips turned down in a slight frown until Missouri was out of sight.

"S'not me you're worryin' about, so let's just drop that subject-" Tia jumped right in while pouring herself a glass of tea.

"I just wanna find my dad," Ben said quietly. "I'm not tryin' to be rude, it's just- he told me to find Missouri, but if you know where he is-"

"He's in Sioux Falls, South Dakota," she injected, almost indignantly. Her eyebrows arched steeply as she met his gaze, emphasizing her next point. "But'chu need to figure out just what it is you plan on doin' there before you step out that door, boy." Her tone was firm, but not quite as aggressive as her eyes tended to be. They dropped from him and watched as she poured the last glass of tea, and handed it over. He took it without really knowing what to do with it, the glass startlingly cold against his palms when he wrung it.

"Getting the gun. That's all that matters," he repeated. _Assuming he still has it. Assuming he even gives it to me. Assuming he doesn't just tell me to leave and never come back because I did everything he told me not to do-_

Tia cut a short chirp of humorless laughter; it scraped in the back of her throat as more of a snort. "It ain't ever just _one thing_that matters. That's like lookin' at somethin' you want through a thin tube; you miss everythin' else." She sat back in the wicker chair and took a short sip of her tea, watching him. "That's a man who's seen way too much, and you ain't seen him in way too long. What're you gonna say to him?"

"That's not your business," Ben said with a hint of briskness. "I didn't come here lookin' for a practice run. You have no idea what I'm trying to do."

"Oh, _don't I_-?" she answered just as quick, sitting up straighter. "You're scramblin' across the continent grabbin' at every scrap'a chance to put a demon down without usin' the angel nippin' at your heels. Sound familiar?"

All the color drained out of Ben's face. It was one thing to find a psychic who could track down his sister or his dad, but to know that his own life was being watched so closely scared the hell out of him. For all that Tia Mosley could have been his age, he suddenly felt like a child in the face of her agitation. His eyes dropped to the ground.

"And y'know what?" she added, leaning her elbows on her knees, and the frayed pieces of her jean shorts. "You're right t'do so."

Her words brought his eyes up just as quickly, his heart suddenly racing. "Why?

Tia's full lips pressed together as thin as they would go. Her eyes shot up to the staircase where her Nana had been, then back to Ben with all the seriousness in the world behind them. "Thing about _destiny_ is-it's a point of view. The Old Things in the world look at us like we're pawns on a big-ass chess board; some're made to draw away, some for conquerin', some for dyin'. What they forget is we not only got minds of our own, but this 'big-ass chess board' is _our_world. It's our actions that change it." Tia wet her lips on another quick sip of tea before setting it down, scooting to the edge of the chair.

"What that Angel thinks you want to hear ain't really what you want. What'chu think's gonna happen to that yellow-haired girl and the blue eyed boy if you let yourself be martyred? Everythin' gonna be hunky-dory? It ain't their _safety_you need to be focused on... It's what they do to the world if you're not in it."

Ben could feel the panic rising in him again, threatening to take him and putting a nagging need to run as fast as he could into him.

"Where in Sioux Falls?"

Tia eased back in the chair, sighing. It creaked with her weight, and the shifting ice in her glass. "Look for a place with a lotta broken cars. A junk yard-somethin' like that." She took another drink, her eyes focused in her tea. "You're also bein' watched on the Other side. Can't leave here without somethin' to hide you from him, or you're not gonna make it across the state line."

Ben's hand went to his collar, tugging down the fabric to expose his anti-possession tattoo. Although he knew they'd ripped it clean off of Claire, that had been after they'd ambushed her.

"I'm not gettin' ambushed. If they want me, they're gonna have to shoot me through the head."

Tia's brows severely pinched down in the middle. "And what makes you think they won't? Boy, they don't need to possess you to kill you, and you're 'bout as bright as a halogen bulb to the one's who're lookin'. C'mon-" She stood up, switching her tea in her hands and headed back out to the porch. Ben cast his eyes upward to the stairs before following reluctantly behind her.

* * *

><p>Jesse never felt Belial's calls coming. That wasn't the worst part about the situation, not by a long shot, but it was an extra twist of the blade. No feeling in his stomach or tingling at the back of his neck. One moment you're riding shotgun through Nebraska; the next your entire body feels shot through with fire.<p>

He jerked against his seatbelt with a cry, grabbing hold of the door. "Fuck-ah! It's him, Claire," he gritted through clenched teeth. Claire had felt her own breath seize with the noise he made, followed by the immediate sinking of her heart into her stomach.

"_Christ_-hold on, Baby-" she said, handing him her hand and helplessly switching her attention between him and the road, looking for a good place to pull off. There was nothing but corn on either side of them for what seemed like miles.

Biting down on his tongue to try to keep from crying out, he couldn't stop his body from jerking now and then, desperate to get away from the pain that was at its very core. Tears leaked from his shut eyes and he let out a few more gasped cries in the age the agony lasted. And then, like coming up above water, it was gone - right as Claire had rolled to a stop on the road's shoulder. His heaving breaths almost turned into a laugh, except for the fear that pricked up in the forefront of his mind.

"It's okay. I'm okay," he said breathlessly to Claire.

Her face was almost as pale as his, drawn and tight with excruciating worry. Not only had the sounds of his pain reached into her core, but Claire knew by the look in his eyes that they were sharing the same thought. "You're sure?" She didn't let go of his hand.

He swallowed. "Yeah. Made it through, and we're almost there. Might want to drive a bit fas-" The word cut off in a scream, Jesse's hand clamping onto hers like a vice as he jerked violently. The pain was back, but in a completely new form. He thought it was painful before, the fire racing through his veins. But now, now he'd been plunged into the heart of a volcano. The car, Claire, everything seemed to fade away in the face of what had a hold of him now.

And all Claire could do was try to keep her heart from tearing itself out of her chest. Any harder, and his grip would be snapping her fingers, but the sensation was secondary to the panic that gripped her, bone-deep. "Jess-! Jesus-god, just-breathe, Baby-" she was on the verge of shouting, twisted in the seat to latch her free hand on his face and try to bring him back. "Look at _me_, stay with _me_-!"

_Stay, stay, stay._It whirled through his mind, the most important order in the world, holding him to the seat. He tried to gasp in air, but the pain wasn't coming in waves or spurts. It was constant, steady, never-ending, and so was his screaming. Even when he ran out of air, when the screams fell quiet, his mouth still ached in open, silent agony. His back arched desperately but he was held sharp into place by his seatbelt.

They had been alone at the time, but out of nowhere the doors were thrown open. Three separate bodies pressed into the car - two to hold Jesse back, and one who grabbed forcefully at Claire's anti-possession charm. The woman screamed in pain, unholy smoke rising off her hand as she threw it to the floor, but then the black smoke was pouring out of her mouth and rushing into Claire's. Even though the world was a blur, Jesse saw clear enough to try to fight. He managed a gasp of air but felt something shoved in his mouth as the black smoke disappeared into Claire. He tried to fight, but his body was already at war with itself; he could hardly take on anyone else.

Claire had been pushed back into her seat by the force of the invasion, her hair sprawled across her face in chaotic, pale waves. Now, she casually pushed them out of her eyes and adjusted the t-shirt at her shoulders, just as the hand of the unconscious woman at her window disappeared, having fallen from the ground.

"_Well_now," she said with an airy disposition that bordered on surprise. It was Claire's voice, but two or three shades darker - like the difference between a silver and brass bell. She twisted in the driver's seat to face Jesse. The black, soulless eyes of a shark beamed down at him over a slow, toothy grin. "Hello, baby boy. I see you've been busy."

Jesse tried to jerk towards her, to grab for her, but two demons and a seatbelt had him held tight. His eyes rolled in the back of his head, pain overcoming panic, although neither was doing anything to help Claire. He gave a sob around his gag.

"Awww," the demon in Claire cooed in his direction, even pushed her bottom lip out in a pouty show of sympathy that didn't last long; her smile returned just as quickly. "Don't worry, Jesse-Bear. _I'm_still proud of you. And we'll take good care of them," Claire's thin fingers drummed absently on her flat stomach. "Promise."

In the next heartbeat, she and the others were gone. The wall of pain remained, Jesse's spasms against it growing weaker. Somewhere between five minutes and five years after one of the loves of his life was taken from him again, the agony ceased, and he collapsed onto the benchseat. One hand groped to release his seatbelt, the other tugging out the gag so he could gulp down shuddering breaths of air.

_Claire. They took Claire._

The words stretched out in his head into a sickening reality. He hadn't left her but it hadn't mattered. He'd been useless and now she was gone again, suffering again.

He didn't know how long he'd laid there, numb from the inside out, before it crossed his mind to call Ben. _If she gets hurt, I'll never forgive you._He wanted to sink into the earth and disappear, but someone had to save Claire, and Ben was their best shot.

His muscles aching, he pulled his phone from his pocket, staring at the dashboard as he rang the number. It rang for an eternity, before going to voicemail. Three more times, and there still wasn't an answer. His world seemed to narrow; he didn't know what to do, so he had to look at one thing at a time. There had been a demon. That meant collateral damage.

Crawling along the benchseat, he reached down and found the woman's arm. It was cool to the touch and he couldn't find a pulse. Possessions weren't good deaths. They'd have to salt and burn. _Claire Claire Claire._There wasn't time. Maybe he could put her in the corn field, come back later. Next thing.

He sat up in the seat, looking around. They'd pulled off into a low enough incline that those on the road couldn't see much. They'd probably just think someone was taking a leak. Next thing.

_Ben._He looked down at his phone. There were any number of reasons Ben wasn't answering, but he had to know what was going on, as soon as possible. And if he tried to call Jesse back, and Jesse couldn't answer... Swallowing, he dialed again.

"_This is Ben. Leave a message._"

There was a long silence. "Ben." Jesse's voice sounded and felt like he'd swallowed steel wool. "It's Jesse. They... they got Claire." _Saw it happen. Couldn't stop them. Tried. Tried._ "I don't know where. Just...come to my mom's. We'll..." _Not enough time._"I'm gonna get her back, Ben. I swear. Whatever it takes."

He hesitated on the line a few seconds more, but there didn't seem anything else to say. He ended the call, staring down at the phone. Next thing.

He had to do whatever it took.

_Belial._

"Ruth," he said, no louder than if she'd been sitting in the back seat. She was there before he had the chance to take a second breath.

He looked at her, his lips pursed as he swallowed. "They took Claire again," he said, his voice neutral. "This time, you're going to help me, and you're going to stay with me."

The fear was bright in her eyes, but she nodded wordlessly. _[ Anything you want everything you want follow you anywhere wherever you go ]_

"Yes."

He flinched but nodded. "Good. Now tell me what you can do, everything you can do."

"Everything you can do," she whispered in answer. "And everything they can do."

"I need a list. I don't know everything they can do, so you have to tell me so I know how well we're armed."

A flash of silver appeared out of thin air, sliding down from her wrist and into her palm. The air seemed to shift around them with the blade's presence, but she barely even blinked. Jesse, however, nearly leapt backwards out of the car.

"Where the fuck did you get that?"

Ruth's eyes went wide and she visibly startled at his reaction. "I... it's- I was born with the ability to call it."

His eyes flicked to hers then back on the sword. "Call it from where?"

"Inside," she answered, swallowing hard as she looked at him. [ _I don't understand what did I do did I do something wrong please don't be angry with me I won't call it again if it makes you upset don't want you upset just want to please you-_]

"It's okay," he said, without really feeling it. Swallowing, he held out his hand. "Can I hold it?"

Without even a twitch of hesitation, Ruth presented him the hilt, her eyes still wide and bright as she watched him. He took it warily, weighing it carefully in his palm before taking it fully from her. It was cool to the touch, and lighter than he thought it would be. Pursing his lips, he nodded.

"Did you ever try to use it on him?" he asked, finally looking back to her.

Ruth shook her head quickly, her wide eyes expanding even further. Her wave of terror hit him like a wind and he nodded. "Do you think you could?"

[ _don't wanna die don't wanna die_]

"If you asked me to," she answered in a small voice.

"It's okay," he said, looking down and his grip tightening. "I'll take it." Taking a breath, he looked at her. "What else?"

"I can move freely," Ruth answered. "Nothing can hold me out or hold me back. I can heal, myself and others, though I can't bring them back from beyond. I can travel through the subconscious." _[ I can speak to you without being heard, and I can read your thoughts just as easily as you can read mine. ]_Yet even as she spoke directly, the undercurrent of worry and devotion beat against it, little half-formed fears rushing through her like a river. "I can see possibilities. I can hide. I can bend reality around me." She visibly swallowed. "But I can die."

His blank, hard expression softened at that, and he settled a hand on her leg. "That's a good thing. Only really horrible things can't die." He thought a moment before asking, "Bending reality. Does that mean you could be invisible?"

"It wouldn't help," she said in the same small voice. "They would feel me."

"So how have you been hiding from them since you ran away?"

[_ Running running running never staying still always running always never sleeping never stopping -_]

Her lips twisted in a sad, wry smile. "Same as you."

He gave her leg an extra squeeze. "Okay. So we don't hide. We don't hide. We're going to go in and get Claire out, no matter what, alright?" He frowned a moment. [_And I should probably practice this since that's how we'll want to talk failed failed them all_]

Her hands covered his and she squeezed them tightly, every emotion that poured out of her showing on her face.

"Don't say that," she whispered. "Don't ever say that, not ever. Don't even think it." [ _Love him love him love him love him-_] Admiration and adoration swelled up in her like a flood, pouring over and into him.

Jesse's eyes fluttered closed, his body swaying as the unnoticed tension eased away. He wanted to stay there, floating in the sensation. [ _Can't can't save her die for her_] He took a breath, opening his eyes. "It's going to take some getting used to."

Her hands only tightened over his.

"I can take you to her," she said quietly. "I know where she is." [_ Like a swarm of bees they all went all went something's up don't know what so scared can't be scared wanna run run run run they're coming they'll find me can't let them-_]

After Ruth's ignorance last time, Jesse hadn't even dared to hope she would know where to start now. At those words, his adrenaline skyrocketed. He grabbed her arm, staring unblinking into her eyes. "Where?"

"Clifton," came her whispered answer.

He knew the name. He'd heard in Ruth's panicked mental narration the first time they'd met. Setting his jaw, he said, "Then you're the best person for it. You've gotten out of there before; now you can show me how."

[ _Fool me once shame on me fool me twice shame on you -_]

"Not sure if we can get out this time," she said, her voice carrying a note of finality.

"Then we can just get Claire out," he said firmly, though not quite meeting her eyes. She nodded, trepidation beating out like a heartbeat beneath the swells.

"You've been there before," she told him.

He frowned. "What?"

Ruth's eyes burned bright with the memory. "We felt you there, right before Callavilla fell. Everyone felt you. They could barely keep us still, but I left in the chaos."

"I don't..." His frown deepened. "New Jersey, right? I thought you'd said... I don't remember going there."

Ruth's eyes dropped and a shiver moved through her body. Fear sliced through the air between them like static.

"Sir took you there," she said. "To the door."

"The graveyard," he murmured. He remembered, all too well. So, he knew how to get there. "Ruth, how many... people like you are there?"

"At Academy?" her brows pinched together. [ _Abandoned them abandoned them my brothers and sisters the worst kind of traitor but I had to go I had to had to run had to run knew what was coming so scared don't wanna die-_] "300."

"And how many...others?"

"The Nursery isn't there," Ruth answered. "It's only us, and the Watchers, and a handful of demons."

Jesse felt a smile pull at his lips. "And all of you follow me. Ruth, if we get your brothers and sisters loose... we could win."

Ruth's bright blue eyes widened, the fear between them growing stronger. "Sir would kill them if you came without knocking. He barely kept everyone from chasing after you. They had to be held back -" [ _Kicking and screaming and crying and begging and blood so much blood like dying but not enough lost just enough to start to see the Light -_] " - to keep from following."

[ _Fuck fuck fuck_] "Guess it couldn't be that easy." He closed his eyes, trying to think. "Can you drive a car?"

"Never really needed to learn," she answered softly.

"Didn't think so." He opened his eyes, looking at her steadily. "You stay here. There is a body on this side of the car. Move it into the cornfield, and make sure no one sees you do it. Then wait for me. I have to check on someone."

[ _Don't leave me please don't leave me not here not alone they found you they'll find me can't let them can't anything you want anything you want -_]

"If they come, you can leave," he practically snapped. He took a breath, forcing the tension out of his expression. "Just do this for me, okay?"

Her head bowed and she nodded. [ _Yes, master._]

[ _No no fuck can't Mom._] Without another word, he disappeared.

* * *

><p>The gris-gris bag was a strange weight in his pocket, and although Tia had reassured him that it would do the trick, there was no denying his skepticism. All it contained was herbs, oils, stones, bones, and an ID in the back of his wallet that he hadn't used since Jesse had started to travel with them, but when he'd tried to argue with her about it, she'd very nearly hit him in the head.<p>

He just hoped it really worked.

He'd made it to Sioux Falls in just over five hours, flooring it the whole way, his body tensing up every time he saw a cop car along interstate 29. It was a miracle he hadn't been stopped given his speeding, but he didn't really have much space inside his head to think about it. All he could think about was what he was going to say when he finally got there.

It was all really happening.

Up until Claire and Jesse, the only time Ben wasn't thinking about his father was when he'd been in the heat of a hunt, and even then he wondered minutely whether or not Dean or Sam would miraculously appear, guns blazing. He'd conjured up over a thousand different reactions to their reunion, from proud to pissed and everything in between. But the older he'd gotten, the more he'd started to wonder if he would ever find him. Now that he'd had his memories again and thought back on all the different scenarios, Ben wondered just how glad his father would be when he finally found him again.

At the exit into the city, Ben found himself momentarily lost as to where to go, but instinct guided his hand and he slowly started to drive to the outskirts of town. The streets and trees had a hazy familiarity to them that he couldn't quite explain, but when he'd turned off on a dusty gravel road, his heart started racing. Before he knew it, there was the sign: _Singer Auto Salvage._He had to force himself to breath slowly, at the risk of hyperventilating himself.

There was a small building not too far off from the entrance, but the windows were dark and the paint peeling. It looked as though it hadn't been used in a very long time. The house about four hundred yards back was in similar disrepair. He didn't see a car in the place that didn't look rusted out.

_He's not here,_came the whispered thought. Ben pulled up next to the house and killed the engine on the Camry hybrid, head bowed as he tried to think what next to do. Tia had said a junkyard with cars; Ben remembered being brought here, hidden in the house while Dean had raced off with Sam. He could remember Bobby showing him how to use some of the equipment, and the older man studying his face with keen eyes whenever he thought Ben wasn't looking. Maybe there would be some information inside. It was better than driving away.

Shoving the keys into his pocket and leaning over into the passenger's seat to dig through his bag, Ben found his lockpick set and set out of the car. It was a short walk up the stairs, the wood creaking beneath his boot, and without even a glance around Ben crouched in front of the locks to start working. All he could hear was the sound of the occasional bird, the wind rustling through the corridors of cars and trees, and the distinct buzzing of insects.

The sound of a car pulling up on the property was unmistakable and Ben panicked, working faster. He briefly feared that the newcomer would see the car and immediately know something was up, but he'd cross that bridge when he got to it. _Maybe it's just a bunch of kids,_ he thought, even as the hairs rose on the back of his neck; the distinct feeling of being watched. _Lookin' to drink and party or something. They might not even make it this w-_

"I wouldn't go in there, if I were you," a gruff voice interrupted just as the lock surrendered to the efforts of the lock pick. Ben straightened and turned, his free hand instinctively reaching for his gun before he managed to stop himself. A man had stepped into view at the foot of the stairs, leaning heavily on the cane he used as much to clear the path in front of him as a walking aid. "I hear there's ghosts in that old house."

Ben swallowed hard as he met the eyes of the stranger. Like the old man who had lived there before, his gaze was keen and searching, trying to find something in his face. It was unsettling, and eerily familiar.

"Considerin' who used to live here, I think I've got a lot more to worry about than ghosts," he said at last, trying to put on a relaxed smile as his eyes quickly took in the man's stance. He was wearing a jacket also, and there was a visible lump in the side that all but screamed handgun. _Steady hand, Braeden,_he told himself. "I'm a friend of the family. The key was moved. Did somebody buy the place or something?"

"No. I'm the current owner." The man stiffened at his own words before taking a breath, his neutral mask returned. He tilted his head, studying Ben. There was something familiar, something he couldn't quite place. A wave of his hand shifted to his hip, the jacket strategically shifted to show the butt of the gun; not so much a threat as a subtle warning. Ben felt his own body tensing.

"You wanna tell me who you are, exactly, and what your business is here, Mr. Friend of the Family?" Eyes that fell in the spectrum between green and hazel turned dark. The man brought his free hand up to scrub at his face. Ben knew the man had a good twenty years or so on him, instincts sharp as a razor's edge. No doubt he could get his gun out and fire off a round before Ben knew what hit him, if he felt inclined. But he didn't move. Ben could see recognition registering in the older man's eyes. His hand dropped to the gun tucked in his waist band before he sneered, his expression hardened to a fixed glare. The smile slid right off the younger man's face.

"I'm waiting, boy."

Ben showed his hands palms up in a sign of submission, his heart beating even faster at the rough response. _Now or never._

"Look, I'm not tryin' to steal anything, if that's what you're thinkin'," he said quickly. The man took an awkward step forward as he drew his gun and leveled it at the young man. He held the gun steady, his stance wide for stability. Ben's words nearly blurred together in his haste to finish: "I'm just trying to find some answers. Bobby knew my dad, and I thought maybe he'd have a letter or something from him, some kind of forwarding address, I need to find him. He and his brother are transients-"

"Hold it. Back up. Say that again." His voice was hard, thick, almost choked. The hand holding the gun twitched, causing it to waver, but a deep and deliberate breath steadied him. His eyes didn't waver.

"I'm looking for my dad," Ben repeated, his voice a bit stronger as he straightened his posture, hands clenched at his sides. He really, _really_ didn't want to get shot at. "If you have his things, I need to look through them. Please. I _need_to find him, and I don't know where else to look."

"Seems to me, dear old dad doesn't want to be found," the man narrowed his eyes. He hooked his cane on his arm and raised his free hand to scratch at his jaw. His gaze held steady, scrutinizing the young man.

"He got a name?"

A sudden buzz in his pocket visibly startled the younger man, followed by a few bars from Zepplin's _Whole Lotta Love_, but he slid his hand into his pocket and immediately silenced it. It felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. Jesse and Claire's voices echoed in his head; They'd asked him the same question, and both times the hair on his arms had stood on end, trepidation twisting up like a knot in his gut. _That's a man who's seen way too much, and you ain't seen him in way too long. Just don't go gettin' your hopes up._

The closer he got, the more he recognized the face. His hair had started growing grey, and there were more lines creasing his skin - especially on his forehead and around his mouth - but it was the eyes that got him. He knew those eyes. He stared at them every morning in the mirror.

"Don't act like you don't know it," Ben growled out. "Likely that's the only reason you haven't shot me yet."

"Don't tempt me, boy, and don't think I won't do it," the older man growled out in an eerily-similar tone. "Now I'm going to ask one more time. What's your daddy's name?" The gun in his hand shifted, pointed at a knee cap. "Answer the question or get off my land. I'm well with in my rights to shoot you, seeing as you're armed. Your choice."

Ben caught the gun at the barrel and lifted it, stepping close enough so that it pressed directly to his chest and against his heart. His eyes never broke away from the older man's face.

"Go ahead and shoot me then, Dean," he said. "God knows, you might as well have, back when I was twelve. Only this time, you'll have to watch."

Dean held his expression perfectly neutral. Only his eyes betrayed him, shifting, looking down at the gun pressed to his son's chest. He cleared his throat and drew his gaze back to the young man's face. He kept the gun firm, steady and in place. "Everything I did that day, I did to protect you and your mother."

The lack of a denial was enough to suck all the air out of him, but it was his answer that rubbed salt into newly-reopened wounds.

"Keep telling yourself that." There was not enough space inside of him to contain the multitude of emotions he felt.

Dean shook his head. His death grip on the gun relaxed, but only slightly. "I have never lost sleep over that decision, Ben." His lips twisted in a self-depreciating smile that Ben recognized, but whatever he was thinking he kept to himself before continuing on. "It was one of the few selfless things I ever did. And yeah, maybe it wasn't the right thing to do, but I did it for you, so you could have a normal life. Not my fault, whatever happened after."

"Selfless?" came Ben's indignant answer. Fury broke on his face and before he could stop himself, his hands came up and he shoved the older man with all the strength of a bull. The shove forced Dean to take a step back. His weaker leg couldn't hold his weight, and he lurched. He instinctively grabbed at Ben's shoulder to hold himself up. The cane thumped the ground, and a shot that sent the birds squawking rang out from the gun, bullet tearing in to the wall of the house. In the throes of his anger, Ben didn't even register it.

"_Selfless?_ Fuck you! You didn't wanna be responsible anymore. You _left!_And not only that, but you left us without any sort of idea how to protect ourselves! How is that selfless!"

An awkward hop got Dean's feet back under him. "Son of a bitch," he growled. The metal brace of the artificial leg and foot showed where his jeans had drawn up and Ben stared, momentarily derailed. He kicked his leg out to try and settle the denim back in place.

"I fucked up, Ben. You and your mother were never supposed to be part of it. I fucked up the day I went to her, I knew better. That was my mistake, not the rest."

"I don't care," Ben threw back at him. It was a bold faced lie, but he couldn't stand to hear Dean's argument anymore. It hurt too much.

Dean secured the gun and tucked it back in his waist band. "Fine. You found me. I'm guessing this isn't the reunion you were hoping for. You want to go, go. Free and clear." Dean put both his hands up as if in surrender before letting them fall to his sides. "'Cause I think we're done here."

The phone in his pocket buzzed again, but once more Ben ignored it. Dean was telling him to leave. He felt like his heart was breaking all over again.

"I need the Colt," he said in a low monotone.

For a moment Dean could only stare at him. He recovered, took a step toward him, an arm raised as if he meant to grab the younger man by the shirt, but he fell short. He stood in front of him, crowding his personal space. "You've got some nerve, coming up in here, acting like I owe you something, thinking you can just demand the Colt." Dean shook his head. His eyes burned dark. "Get - _the hell_- off - my - land."

"Either give it to me, or shoot me, but I'm not leaving without it," Ben said, his voice going rough.

"Hope you brought a tent." Dean bent to retrieve his cane, and once he had it in hand he started to move toward the stairs to climb the porch. "And a blanket. It gets cold out here at night."

He didn't even look at him. Ben grabbed him at the shoulder and very nearly yanked him back.

"I'm not _asking_ you. You didn't _ask_ me if I wanted my memories, goddammit. _Give me the gun_."

"I don't have it." Dean kept a calm stance as he turned to face Ben. "You're wasting your time, and mine."

Ben could see Claire's face in his mind, disapproving and trying to suggest another route. He could see Jesse's too, egging him on, telling him to take what he wanted. And for the briefest moment he saw his mother's, but that only made him angrier. Ben pulled his hand back with the same ferocity as before, throwing a punch straight into his jaw. He saw Dean tense, clearly having expected the punch, and he didn't flinch until Ben's fist collided with his jaw. He kept his footing, though his head whipped to the side. Teeth clenched, his father breathed through the initial waves of pain. Without any explanation, he drew the gun from his jeans and tossed it onto the porch, sending it skidding out of reach.

"You're a moron if you think I'm just going to hand over the Colt because you ask so fucking nicely," Dean spat, spitting blood onto the lower step. "It doesn't work that way, kid. Besides, I don't believe you really want it."

"Just like you didn't want my mom?" Ben shouted back at him. "Or me?" He grabbed Dean by the shirt and yanked him forward. The motion was enough to take his feet out from under him. Dean growled as he hit the step, sliding down another before his good foot caught him and halted the downward slide. He flung an arm out, intent on hitting Ben, but the younger man grabbed his arm and yanked him again, throwing him back. The only sound he could hear was his pulse roaring in his ears.

"I'm gonna save them with or without your help!" he shouted again.

"Hold it right there!" came a barked voice just behind them. The safety of a gun clicked off.

"Stand down, Sam. I got this." He turned his gaze past Ben's shoulder, lips turned up in a crooked, mean smile. "But nice of you to drop by. We were just having a happy little family reunion here, weren't we, Ben?" The name was said with a deliberate tilt of his head.

Ben turned to look at the new arrival, just in time to see the dark look of a man under attack replaced first with confusion, then with realization. Just like before, the man he saw had aged, but time had been a little kinder on Sam Winchester. Ben barely managed to keep from swaying on his feet.

"But Cas-" Sam started. Dean shook his head.

"He fucked that up, just like he fucked everything. Don't know how. We haven't gotten that far." Dean shifted, pushed into a sitting position, and rubbed at his knee where he'd hit the hard wood of the step. "Junior here wants the Colt, and he has yet to tell me why, or convince me why I should care."

Sam's eyes moved to Ben's with that same searching gaze. Ben felt like screaming until his voice gave out.

"Dean..." Sam started again, but this time it was Ben who interrupted him.

"I either try and kill it with the fucking Colt, or I get to ride the fucking comet!" Ben yelled. "And you know what, I don't even care anymore! Screw you! Thanks for nothing, you selfish sonuvabitch!"

Dean caught his hand before he got too far away, then used him as a balance to yank himself up to his feet. "Calm the fuck down." His mood seemed to have adjusted with the presence of his brother, and Ben inwardly seethed at the realization.

"Sammy'll go get us all a beer, and we can talk about this. And you can start by telling me what the hell _it_is, and why you're so hell bent on killing it with the Colt."

* * *

><p>Marta Turner looked at herself in the mirror, blinking wide as her contacts settled in place. Random fuzzy thoughts buzzed around her head; snippets of things she had wanted to do earlier that morning but now had no desire to even set foot outside the house. She was distracted by something as undefined as the dreams fading from her recent - unusually long - nap.<p>

No more antacids with cough syrup. That had to be the only explanation; she'd stopped dreaming about Jesse years ago, and just the thought of relapsing was enough to drag up an old sadness that had to be reburied. She sniffed once, looking down at the sink in order to splash some water on her face when the sound of the doorbell cut through her thoughts.

A dark green eye peered through the peephole before she opened the door; Marta kept her expression pleasantly neutral. The young woman on the other hand might have been seventeen, her blond hair pulled back and exposing a long gash across her forehead.

"Sorry to bother you," she said in a weak, tired voice. "I crashed my bike. Do you have a first aid kit?"

Marta immediately switched into mom-mode, her eyebrows lifted high with concern. "Oh geez-yeah, hang on." Leaving the door open, she turned toward the linen closet at the front of the hallway, calling behind her. "Do you need to call someone?"

"My phone's outta minutes," the young woman called from outside the door, her arm held against her forehead to stave off the bleed. "What's this weird tape on the ground? Bug blocker or something?"

"What?" Pulling the white plastic box out, Marta sent a confused look over her shoulder. She examined it closer after handing the girl the kit. "I-I'm not really sure."

The girl settled on the little bench outside and started to open the kid, opening one of the little packets of sanitizing wipes and thoroughly scrubbing her forehead.

"You're Mrs. Turner, right?"

Marta had crouched next to the door, picking curiously at the sticky strip that crossed her front door's thresh hold. "Yeah," she said, distracted, then looked up at the girl. "Do I know you?"

The girl was suddenly standing in front of her, lips curved in a wide smile, her eyes completely black.

"No, but I know your son," she answered, her voice suddenly deeper and tall-voweled. She grabbed Marta by the throat and lifted her clear off the ground with inexplicable strength. A strangled noise and a few hard kicks did nothing to dispel the moment of sudden panic in the older woman's eyes. She clawed at the teenager's arm, her lips gaping voiceless screams of shock. The teenager's mouth opened as well, her black eyes crinkled in the corner with a smile as a sudden stream of black smoke poured out of her. Rather than moving with the direction of the wind, it rose and arced before rushing down Marta's throat. Her body went rigid in the exchange, eyes widening with horror as she felt it expand inside her and consume every part.

In the span of a few moments, the grip on her throat went loose and Marta landed on her feet, the blonde teenager collapsing. Tipping her head to the left, then the right, her neck cracked and she took a deep breath.

"No!" The voice was high with desperation, and the demon turned to see Jesse standing on the walkway. He'd gone so pale he was nearly gray and he swayed slightly where he stood, staring at her.

The demon grinned at him, winking with his mother's deep brown eyes, before blowing him a kiss and vanishing from sight. His body jolted forward, as if to stop her, but he was far too late. He stumbled to the stairs, staring at the woman who looked back at him with dead eyes. _Why, why, why? I didn't- I can't-_

"Ruth," he rasped out.

The air around him felt charged with static as the body appeared next to him, hands on his shoulders. He reached back, grabbing her hand like it was the last thing holding him up.

[ _Hurt hurt hurt don't hurt him don't be hurt gotta help him gotta help anything you want anything-_]

"Breathe, Jess, _breathe_," she told him.

"We need to go, now," he gasped out. "They- My mom-"

She shook her head, squeezing his shoulders harder. "They're expecting that. You go in there, they'll grab you before you even take a breath." [ _Please don't please don't don't hurt him don't hurt him he's everything gotta save him die for him protect him save him_]

It was instinct. He turned, arms wrapping around her, pulling her desperately hard against him. [ _What do I do? please please please_]

Her emotion was almost tangible as it tightened around him; Love, devotion, concern, faith, twisting and interweaving like a blanket of pure light.

[ _Submit to it and they win. Don't let them win. Keep him safe keep him safe keep him safe die for him anything he wants_]

"They're trying to lure you in. They want you to come. If you go without knowing what you're doing, they'll take you."

[ _String you up bleed you out torture you hurt you can't let them take you not ready so strong so very strong but walls in the way holding back gotta bust through them gotta reach deep down inside_]

He curled against her, face buried against her neck, trying to lose himself in her thoughts and emotions. They were at least less jagged than his own.

"Have to call Ben," he finally murmured.

Her arms tensed around him for a moment before they released, pulling back enough to take his face in her hands.

"Just breathe." [ _Love him love him lovehimlovehim_ ] "He'll help you. He'll understand." [ _Follow him anywhere everywhere die for him anything he wants_]

The sentiment was a bit twisted, but that didn't stop him from feeling better. He nodded, taking a deep breath. Then he reached for his phone.

* * *

><p>The house was dusty as hell, not to mention drafty and cold, but the lights worked and there was a kitchen with tables and chairs. Ben stood. Sam had argued about leaving them alone together and for all that the two of them had been quiet about it, Ben had a pretty good idea why. He remembered that part of the books, how Sam had felt about his and Dean's father, how angry he'd been. The uncanny familiarity of the two events was enough to make Ben's skin crawl.<p>

The smell of the place brought the memories back so vividly he almost thought he heard Bobby tromping through the house, but when the sound came back to the kitchen it had been Dean who came into the light again, with Sam following a few steps behind. Probably checking wards and traps. It was what he would have done.

Dean sat, kicked his legs out as if he meant to take up as much space as he possibly could. He leveled his eyes on Ben. "I don't hear any words coming out of your mouth." He couldn't say what would have happened out front if Sam hadn't showed up precisely when he did, but he was fairly certain they wouldn't have made it to the kitchen, where Dean was more willing to listen and give Ben a chance to explain.

Dean leaned forward, hands on his knees, eyes hard and intensely focused on Ben. "If this is some game you're playing, you might as well leave before Sam forgets what he's doing and-" Dean glanced at his brother, who nodded in silent acquiesce, then continued with a slightly lower volume, "-accidentally shoots you in the head. Otherwise, I suggest you start talking."

"It's not your fight," Ben answered in a bitter voice. "Isn't that what you always said, whenever anyone tried to talk you out of anything or tried to help you?"

Sam chuckled quietly from where he was leaning against the far wall.

"Thing is, I have something you want. Well," Dean amended with a tilt of his head, watching Ben. "I _maybe_have something you want." He could tell so much from the most subtle and mostly involuntary movements Ben made. "And I'm betting you came a long way to get it. You really going to leave without even trying?"

Dean had retired from the life, prematurely. He missed it. He'd wanted to get back in to it, and he would have rushed right back to it as soon as he was able to walk again, but he'd made a promise to Sam. As much as it killed him to play it safe and work on cars during the day and sit at home drinking beer in front of the television at night, that's what his life had come down to. Now he felt like everything was turned upside down, because Ben was all of three feet away, asking for his help. He knew he was a son of a bitch for all the resistance he was giving the kid, but he wasn't about to turn the Colt over just because Ben asked for it. With Sam standing over them, watching Ben just as closely as Dean watched him, it was going to take a hell of a lot more talking on Ben's part to have them so much as consider it; but Ben didn't even so much as let out a sound, staring his father down with a look of contempt. Again, Sam chuckled.

"God, this is like _Twilight Zone_material. He makes the same face you make."

"It's more like a boring bedtime story." Dean got to his feet, using the table as leverage. "Are we done here, then? Because I've got work to do." He took a step, moving past Sam but stopping at the doorway to look over his shoulder and back at Ben. "I trust you can find your way out?"

Something in Ben's eyes flickered, somewhere between panic and anger. Sam looked between them and sighed, then asked in a serious voice, "What'd you mean when you said 'ride the comet'?"

Ben didn't even look at Sam; he only had eyes for his father:

"There's a demon, trying to build up this army of hybrids. He found some way to track down vessels, and he's breeding them with something called a Grigori."

Some of the color drained out of Sam's face, but Ben continued on. "He's been doing this almost thirty years, tucked up inside some little area of nowhere. The only reason we even found out is because one of his little trackers found me and my girlfriend."

Dean had stopped just beyond the door frame. His back was to the kitchen, giving him some measure of privacy as he reacted to what Ben said. He took it all in, and pulled in a breath to steady himself, his nerves, before he turned back to stand in the doorway facing the kitchen, his shoulder slumped against the wall.

He glanced at Sam. So much could be communicated between them without a word. After a moment, Dean sighed and raised his hand to rub his temples and across his forehead. "I don't have the Colt, not here. It's too obvious if someone was to come looking for it." He'd come to the house and found it ransacked more than once, seemed to happen about once every couple of months.

"You didn't answer the question," Sam pressed, his voice a little tighter. The deja vu was giving him chills in the worst way, but Azazel was dead. Lucifer was still in his cage. They'd made sure of it.

Ben turned his eyes to Sam finally.

"You can't kill a demon without the Colt or the knife," Ben said. "And with the power this demon has, there was no way the knife was gonna kill him. He's too high up. An angel came to me and told me he could end it." Ben's eyes turned back to Dean's, his lips twisting in an ironic smile. "All I had to do was sign on the dotted line."

Rage long ago buried resurfaced, bubbled over, and exploded from Dean's fist. He rammed his hand into the wall, barely noticing the pain that ricocheted up his arm. He growled, sneering as he punched the wall again before he turned around. Though he appeared calm, a closer look revealed he was shaking, and his eyes were cold, hard, and dark with anger and aggravation.

Ben hadn't agreed to the deal. Dean knew he hadn't agreed to it, because he was here, looking for the Colt. It was some kind of trap, some desperate attempt to pull not only Dean, but Sam, back in to the game. Using Ben for that purpose was risky, and ran as much chance of backfiring as it had to succeed.

"Before we go any further, you're going to cut yourself with silver." Dean reached down to tug the blade free of his prosthetic. He hated that he doubted Ben, but hell, he hadn't seen the boy for ten years, and the last time he'd seen him Ben had thought he was some random idiot driver who caused an accident and put his mother in hospital with a huge gash in her side. How could he possibly accept anything Ben said at face value? When the stakes were this high, he had to be sure the kid wasn't pulling a scam, or playing part in a scam he may or may not even know about.

Sam was already drawing a flask out from inside of his pocket, but Ben just gave a bitter laugh.

"Please," Ben said, reaching into his own pocket to pull out his silver switchblade and putting it on the table for Dean to investigate. He found the _pure silver_stamp on the base, along with an etched pentagram. Ben's hand dropped to the holster on his thigh as well, flipping up the top of the utility bag and tugging out a flask not too unlike Sam's. He unraveled the rosary from it to show them, neatly dropped it inside and recited the Latin with perfect diction, then took a swig from it. When that was finished, he opened the knife and ran it sideways down the back of his arm over a knot of scar tissue. Blood immediately pooled in the cut. Dean moved to sit back down, to take the weight off his feet. He watched Ben perform the ritual without comment, and with barely a glance at Sam.

"You nearly bit my head off when I wasn't at school one day when you were comin' to pick me up," Ben said to Dean, even as he lifted his hand to his shirt collar to drag it down and show his anti-possession tattoo. Dean let out a breath, but stayed quiet. "And I yelled at you that you weren't my dad, before running upstairs and locking myself in my room. You came up and I shouted at you to go away." As if to spite him, his eyes had started welling up with tears. "And you said... that you weren't tryin' to be my dad, but that didn't mean you didn't care about me and didn't want me hurt, and that mom would kill you if something happened to me. You almost called me Sam."

"You were so much like Sam. Your mom never told me I was your father, always insisted I wasn't. But you were so much like Sam, it was hard to miss. When I asked Cas to take the memories, I thought it was the right thing to do. I wanted you to be happy and safe, Ben." Dean's voice was laced with regret. "I was wrong, but that doesn't mean I didn't have your best interests in mind."

So many old wounds, ripped open in such a short time. Dean sighed. "I can get you the Colt in about six hours. You stay here. And I need insurance, assurance I'll get the gun back after you make your kill."

"I can't wait six hours," Ben said in a thick voice. "My friends are out there with bulls-eyes on their backs. I'm going with you."

Dean spared a glance at Sam. With a nod he stood, and the two brothers stepped out of the room. They spoke in hushed whispers, just out of ear shot. Sam kept an eye toward the kitchen to make sure Ben didn't move or try to listen in. When they headed back to the kitchen, Dean led the way.

"You ride with me. Sam will drive your car. Non-negotiable."

"Leave the car for all I care," Ben answered. "I can get another one. I'm going to Alliance after this."

Dean was already on the move toward the door. Sam paused only a moment, smirking slightly and brows lifting onto his high forehead. "You stole it?"

Ben gave him a thin-lipped smile. "He was double-parked."

Dean cracked a smile at the comment, the sign of a slight ease in tension. He shouldered his way out the kitchen door and into the afternoon sunshine. Without looking back, he ambled across the yard toward the Impala. She'd been refurbished a few times, but she still ran better than any other car on the roads as far as Dean was concerned. Sam fell into step on his left, his gait long-since adjusted to Dean's old wounds. Ben had hesitated for a few beats before catching up to them, settling on the right.

* * *

><p>Jesse went over and over in his head what he was going to say, the description of the graveyard so maybe Ben would know where to meet them. If it even got there. He was ready to leave a very long message. He didn't expect Ben to answer in the middle of the first ring.<p>

"_I just got your message._" Ben asked in a rushed voice, an undercurrent of panic making each consonant crisp. "_Where are you?_"

His mouth was open but nothing was coming out.

"_Jess? **Jesse?**_"

"I'm at my mom's," he blurted out in a rush. He looked at Ruth, then back at his feet. "They got her, too."

"_Shit..._" There was a muffled sound as Ben put his hand over the receiver, and two voices talking quickly and the short break of a third voice. All were male. "_Can you meet us at the hotel?_"

_Us?_"I...sure. Send me a photo," he said, his voice getting quiet.

"_Yes._" There was a brief pause, his voice hushed on the next words, "_Are you okay?_"

Jesse's stomach wrenched and he felt pin pricks at his eyes. He swallowed hard before answering, but his voice still came out scratchy. "I'm fine."

"_Jess,_" Ben answered. "_You're not. I know you're not. I'm still a few hours out. Talk to me._"

His hand went instinctively to Ruth's, squeezing it tight. "Not now," he forced out. If he started talking, started thinking about it, he'd break. "Look, I've got Ruth here. We know where to go. It's going to be tough, so we'll have to get the drop on them, somehow. If you haven't found the gun-"

"_I did._"

Jesse stopped, for the first time feeling a twist of possible hope. "You're...fuck, I love you," he said, his words soft and honest. "Ruth's got an angel's blade. We got two ways to kill the bastard."

"_She **what**?_" Ben exclaimed. "_How the hell did that happen?_"

"Something with being a Nephilim, I guess," he said, looking at Ruth with a smile. "The angel part of her can call it at will."

"_Dude,_" Ben whined slightly. "_This would've been helpful a lot earlier._"

Jesse's smile faltered. "I...didn't know until now. Sorry. I should've..."

"_No, it's fine. It's- I wouldn't even've thought to ask. This is just... do all of them?_"

That got an eyebrow raise. He turned to Ruth. "Do all of you have the swords?"

Ruth nodded.

"Yeah, and they'll follow me, except Belial probably won't let them get close once I'm there. I don't know if we can use that," Jesse said, frowning slightly.

"_We'll figure it out. Tia taught me a trick. Maybe we can sneak in through the back. We can do this. We'll get them back._"

His lips pursing, Jesse nodded firmly. "How much longer until I can meet up with you? We got to get this done quick. After what they did to Claire last time..."

"_We did it your way last time,_" Ben said, his voice taking on a harder edge. "_We gotta do this right, Jess. He's holding all the cards and if he thinks he'll lose, he'll burn 'em all. Please just... Dean, how much longer?_" There was a muffled response on the other side. "_Yeah, thanks. I... thanks. I'll be there soon. Don't leave without me, I'm beggin' you, Jess._"

Jesse felt silent before finally saying a very quiet, "Okay."

Ben gave a shaky sigh on the other end. "_I love you. Don't forget that. I told you I'd fix this and I will._"

"I love you, too," he said barely above a whisper. It felt like the world was closing in on him and he huddled over his knees. "I...I'm sorry. I should have listened to you."

"_I'm quoting you on this later,_ he said, the faintest smile in his tone. "_Just so you know. Hold tight._"

Jesse couldn't bring himself to smile. Squeezing Ruth's hand, he nodded. "Okay."

There was a shaky sigh on the other end, and then the line went dead.

* * *

><p>Jesse had Ruth go back to the car to finish cleaning things up while he hid the other body inside the house, and then told her to just go wherever she wanted but be ready for his call. She decided to wait until Ben sent the photo of the hotel room. Giving her hand one last squeeze, Jesse appeared with his back to Ben. As he turned, he wanted to just throw his arms around Ben, but after everything he'd done wrong, he wasn't sure if Ben would welcome it.<p>

Luckily, Ben made the choice for him, embracing him with such force that all the air was pushed out of his lungs.

"He's getting the gun," Ben said in a breathless voice. "It shouldn't take long. Tell me what happened."

Jesse clung to him, refusing to let go. "He summoned me when we were driving," he said, his voice rough. "I didn't go, so he just kept doing it. Claire stopped the car to try to help, and these demons attacked. I tried to stop them, Ben, I _tried_, but it hurt so badly..."

Ben pulled back to crush his lips to Jesse's in a kiss. He'd started trembling.

"I never should have left," he said hoarsely when he pulled back. "This is my fault. I'm sorry."

"No, no, I should have listened to you, we should have stayed at the hotel." His voice was fervent, his hands clenching in Ben's shirt. "I didn't even save my mom. The tape was pulled back and they took her, too."

Ben's face twisted into a bitter, hateful scowl. "Well, he's not gonna be livin' much longer. We'll fix this."

A tinge of panic came to Jesse's voice. "They're in New Jersey. It will take so long to get there. I don't- If something happens to them, I won't-"

"Jess," Ben interrupted, his hands coming up to hold Jesse's face. "We have no idea what it's like there. This is a trap."

"I know. And it's going to work, because I can't just leave them," he said, his expression twisting. "I'll try to surprise him, or I'll do whatever he asks, anything to get them back."

Real fear filled Ben's eyes. "No. Don't do this. We can fix this together, just- please, don't, _please._"

"Then tell me what to do. Tell me what I can _do_," Jesse challenged.

"We need to have a plan of attack," Ben said quickly. "You said Ruth knows the place. She can tell us what to expect, and we can try and come at him from two angles. If you wanna take all that stuff and make it a diversion, we can do that, but you are _not going without me,_understand?"

"We gotta go now then," Jesse said firmly. "He's going to hurt them, and badly."

Dean had a lot of time to think, while he was off retrieving the Colt. He'd given a lot of thought to turning back, without giving up the gun. He hadn't seen Ben in years, had thought he'd never see the kid again. He probably owed him a great deal, but he didn't feel that it was a debt he particularly needed to pay. He'd done what he could to give Ben a chance at a better life, a normal life. It wasn't his fault things hadn't worked out like he'd hoped.

But he also knew it took a lot of guts and nerves and desperation for Ben to seek him out. And while he didn't feel he was obligated to give Ben anything, he _wanted_to come through for the kid. He'd failed him so many times, so many ways. He was gambling with the Colt, but maybe it was time to hand it down to the next generation. It wasn't like he kept the Colt on hand, anyway. He hadn't even taken it out of storage since he'd lost his leg. He hadn't seen much point.

With a sigh, he pulled the Impala into a parking spot and got to his feet. The Colt was nowhere to be seen as he ambled his way to the room where he was set to meet Ben. He was willing to take the chance that it wasn't a trap, that Ben was on the level with him, and so he raised a fist to knock.

Ben had been midway through taking a breath to explain, but the knock derailed him. Pulling out his gun, he moved to the door and leaned up to look through the peephole. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he opened it.

"Where's Sam?" he asked.

"Around." Dean waved a hand. "Checking the perimeter." He shrugged. Sam tended to stay close, for a number of reasons. "Did you want to wait for him?" Dean leaned heavily on his cane.

"No, it's-" Ben looked over his shoulder at Jesse, conflicted, before pulling the door open to let Dean in. "You said insurance. What's it gonna take?"

Jesse stepped back, his eyes a little round, but he couldn't help but be disappointed by the man that he saw. He was so old. And short. Not sure what to say, he kept his mouth shut.

Dean stepped inside. He glanced at the room, and shrugged. He'd seen a million rooms like it. Hazel eyes fell on Jesse as Dean looked him over. If a long forgotten memory stirred somewhere deep inside of him, he pushed it back down; he couldn't be bothered to try and figure out if he knew Ben's friend, and had no real reason to think he might. He'd been prepared to give the Colt to Ben, no strings attached, before Sam got to them. He sighed and focused his attention on his son; he needed to do it before he changed his mind.

"We could go around about that all night. Fact is: I'm tired, you're tired. I don't know about you, but I've got a long drive ahead of me to get back to my own bed tonight. So let's cut the bullshit." Dean drew the gun out from the back of his jeans, gripped the barrel and held it out to Ben. "Sam's not on board with this, so don't rub it in his face." It was only after he'd finished speaking that Dean glanced at the young man a few feet behind Ben.

"Who's your friend?"

Everything inside Ben told him to respond back with it being none of his business, but he swallowed it down. It wasn't the time for that. The entire day had turned out like his worst nightmare; there was no need to make it worse.

"He's not a demon, if that's what you're asking," he replied with a flat tone, taking the gun's handle. It weighed a lot less than he'd imagined.

"I didn't figure you wanted the Colt for him," Dean answered with a dismissive wave toward Jesse. He could care less who the young man was or why he was with Ben. The less Dean knew was probably for the better.

Glancing at the door, he said, "Sam should be about finished with his rounds." Dean took a step toward it. "And if you're in such a hurry, you should get on the road." That may have been about as close to a goodbye as Dean could get. He was under no illusions, he expected this was it, and he'd never see Ben again.

"Wait!" The word came out slightly strangled as Jesse stepped towards him. "Please. They took- they took our friend. We need help getting her back."

Ben blinked in surprise at the sudden outburst, pausing just long enough to slide the gun into the back of his jeans.

"Jess-"

Another body appeared in the shadow of the cracked-open door.

"There was some sulfur on the sill in the next room," Sam said in a quiet but severe tone. "It's old, but I'm not really liking it. We should move."

Dean's gaze swept the room, taking in the three of them in turn. With a shrug, he led the way to the door, and once he stepped outside, he turned back. "You heard my brother. Move it." He shouldered his way past Sam.

Dean had reservations about joining Ben's hunt. He wasn't exactly as quick, or capable, as he once was, and Sam...Dean shook his head, and looked over his shoulder at his brother.

"How do you feel about a hunt? 'Cause I think we just got drafted."

Sam's face pinched in a frown, and he looked quickly back at the two men tromping behind them a few feet back.

"If you're okay with it..." he said slowly and with obvious skepticism.

Dean drew his focus to Sam, deliberately not looking at Ben and his friend. His eyes clouded over, he reached a hand up to scrub across his face. "He's my son, Sam, and he came to me for help. I can't walk away from that."

"Not sayin' you should," Sam answered. "I just don't want a repeat of Milwaukee, is all, and we don't even know what these two have gotten themselves into."

"We're about to find out." Dean tapped his cane on the pavement. He wasn't going to ask questions or demand answers out in the open. He arched his brow at Ben, then moved toward the Impala.

Ben watched as the two older men got into the front seat, his heart hammering in his chest.

"We're not gonna be able to plan now," Ben said in a tight voice to Jesse. "Not with the advantages we have."

"We still don't have time," Jesse said in the same firm tone as he'd used in the hotel room. "They're good backup, Ben, but that's all. I can't exactly sneak up on the place anyway, so it doesn't make sense for me to come with you. If I can go there, maybe with Ruth, find out where Claire and my mom are held, then Ruth could tell you where-"

"_No,_" Ben interjected vehemently. "Goddammit, Jess-"

"They'll know I'm there!" Jesse snapped. "The only fucking good I am now is drawing their attention so you can get in there and save Claire, but if I'm not there soon, I- Ben, they nearly broke her before. Someone's got to take the attention off of her."

It was that last suggestion that drained all the fight out of him. Ben felt his entire stomach twist up into knots, the urge to throw up extremely strong.

"They'll kill you," he rasped.

"Not if they don't have to." Jesse's voice was quiet but his eyes were locked on Ben's. "They keep going after people I love to make me come to them, but Belial could have killed me a half dozen times before. They don't want me dead, they want me on their side. They're trying to use Claire as leverage, so if I go, she'll be fine."

Ben didn't care that his father and uncle were sitting in the Impala and mere inches away from him; he embraced Jesse with the same ferocity as he had in the hotel room.

"Don't you dare fucking die," Ben told him. "It's gonna take us a day to get up there. Maybe less, if we drive through the night and speed. So go. Stay alive."

Jesse nodded, squeezing him tight. "You, too. I'll see you, soon. When we get Claire back."

Ben turned and got into the car without another word, shutting the door hard behind him as Jesse made a show of heading back into the hotel. Sam turned to look back over his shoulder at him.

"He's not comin'?"

"He's flyin' in," Ben said, the lie almost too easy. "Wants to get a jump on the bastard's lair."

"Gives you plenty of time to tell us what's really going on here." Dean hadn't missed the intensity of the goodbye between the two. He might interrogate Ben about that later, but first he wanted information about the hunt. Dean glanced at Sam, then put the car in gear and headed for the road. "You can start by telling me where we're going. Exactly where we're going."

"Clifton, New Jersey," Ben answered.

Sam's brows rose and he sent a sideways look over to Dean.

"Clifton?" he asked, wanting to clarify. Ben nodded, and Sam's frown deepened. "There's a devil's gate there."

"I know," Ben said with a little hardness to his voice. Dean hit the gas a little harder than necessary. He sneered at the mention of a Devil's Gate, but didn't comment.

"Great. Now tell us the rest of the story." Dean had already surrendered his leverage - the Colt - and had nothing to use to get Ben to tell him anything, if the younger man didn't want to talk. Sighing, he focused his eyes on the road.

"I told you everything there was to tell," Ben snapped in answer. "They took my girlfriend. I just want to get her back, whatever it takes. Jess wants back up."

Sam's expression shifted slightly, but he didn't look back at the younger man in the back seat. When he'd first heard Ben talking to 'Jess' on the phone, the face of his long-dead girlfriend had immediately flooded his mind; it was odd to learn that Jess was, in fact, a man.

Dean's answer was to turn on the radio. He wasn't sure he and Sam were qualified to be back-up anymore. Hell, they'd _never_ been backup; they'd been the guys in the front, reckless and willing to risk everything for someone they didn't even know most of the time. Sam had taken a few small time cases since Dean's injury had forced them both in to retirement, but they were out of practice and probably in way over their heads. Even so, Dean had no regrets. Ben had asked for his help, and that was worth the risk in Dean's book.


	37. Extended Scene: These Dirty Sheets

"Come back to bed," she whispered. "Nothin' matters beyond these ugly-ass sheets tonight."

Ben gave a breath of a laugh before nodding, pushing up to standing again and easing back into the bed. With a small smile, Jesse pressed a kiss just under her ear. A wave of warmth, need, and sheer humanity swept over him that he hadn't felt since she'd been taken from them. They'd been sharing a bed all night, but only now did he feel connected.

Surrounded by them, Claire allowed herself to be swallowed by the familiar, protective warmth. At Jesse's kiss, she closed her eyes. She felt her fingertips find a natural place on Ben's neck, idly twisting a bit of his hair between them as she nuzzled in close, eventually pressing her lips up to his jaw, where they lingered. Ben closed his eyes at the sensation, his breath hitching and his hand twisting in the thin fabric of her sleeping shorts at her hip.

Leaning up, watching them, Jesse felt a twinge, not wanting to be left out. Grabbing Ben by the back of the head, he tilted him up before plunging down onto his parted lips. It was rougher than he meant and partly squashed Claire, but he needed it too badly to care.

Ben made a muffled noise which Claire chorused in a higher timber, but the contrasting sensations of her mouth on his throat and Jesse's against his - soft and hard, gentle and rough - was enough to send shivers through him. He hitched his leg over Claire's hip and rutted against her as his hand moved up to Jesse's forearm, his grip tight.

Shifting his arms to ease the weight off Claire, Jesse pulled back to look down at her. "Sorry about that, baby," he said, his mouth quirking before he leaned down to press his lips to hers. This kiss was gentler but exploring, his tongue tracing her seam. It also muffled the note of tired amusement on her breath. In the next heartbeat, she was kissing him back, and pushing her hips against Ben.

Ben gasped at the returned pressure and gripped harder, hating that one arm was trapped beneath their bodies but unwilling to free it. He didn't want to pull away from them, even if it was becoming increasingly harder to touch them both. The hand on Jesse's arm pulled away, sliding up beneath Claire's shirt to palm her breast as his lips and tongue mapped a trail up the column of her neck. She moaned against Jesse's lips, feeling her heart flip in her chest. Her own words echoed behind her thoughts-that nothing beyond them existed. Claire was never so ready to that perfect escape as she was right then.

Pressing up against her ass, Jesse deepened the kiss, more insistent. He didn't pull back until he was gasping for breath and, keeping his eyes on hers, he slid his hand down the front of her shorts without missing a beat. In with the uneven breath that parted her lips, Claire's grip on Ben tightened and she arched toward the touch. Her head dipped back into the pillow, fighting the urge to close her eyes-but she couldn't bear the thought of blocking anything out.

Ben wriggled partly down the bed and out of Claire's hold, unable to be still anymore when she was making such wonderful sounds. Pushing her shirt up, he latched on to the pert nipple he'd been teasing, pulling Claire's leg between his and rocking against her with purpose.

Jesse's eyes darted down to Ben, a groan pulled from his lips. "That's my boy; make her feel so good," he murmured, even as his fingers slid along her wet seam. Ben shivered in response at the encouragement, letting out a heady little moan.

Her breaths came deeper, stoked by the stark contrast of sensation between Jesse's fingers and Ben's warm mouth. Claire lost the fight to keep her eyes open; they rolled back and closed with another rasp sound of approval. "I love you-love you both. So much..." Her heels slid along the sheets as she rolled more to her back, her knees pulling more apart. Ben turned with her, his other arm arm finally freed up enough that he could wrap it around her properly while his first reached across to knead her other breast.

Bringing his head down low, his lips brushing hers, Jesse slid a finger inside her. "Love you, too," he whispered. A tiny whine caught her breath that shook against his lips, every nerve ending lit with desire and need. Claire's hand drifted wantonly across Ben's smooth, muscled shoulder and gripped wherever she could, her other hand twisted in Jesse's shirt at his side, instinctively pulling him closer, and he eagerly took her mouth in another kiss.

Ben pulled away with a deep breath, his hand drifting away from her to work his way out of his sleeping pants. Grinding against Claire's hip, Jesse slid another finger into her as he plunged his tongue past her lips. He scissored his fingers, probing high and deep and pulling another muffled pitch on her captured breath.

The shifted weight on the bed and the subtle chill left on her skin in Ben's wake had her gripping at his shoulder blindly. As much as she keened and moved against Jesse's melting touch, after the last week, her normally slow build to a fiery want was considerably shortened; she wanted them _so bad_, the need was overwhelming. So much so, all she could breathe against Jesse's lips was a desperate _please_.

Jesse couldn't help but smile. "Please what? You want us, Claire?" He gave his hand a twist, stopping her breath.

"More'n anything-" she moaned, sliding her hand along the back of Ben's neck and into his hair. Her other hand dipped below Jesse's shirt and slid up his chest, pushing the fabric out of the way. Ben found her breast yet again and laved at her nipple, his hand stroking the length of his cock with slow, measured strokes. While he wasn't able to properly look up into Claire's face from his current position, he could see the glazed over look in Jesse's eyes, and it pulled another little needy noise out of him. Jesse looked down at him, then down further at the movement of his hand. He grinned.

"You heard her," he said. "Go on and take her, Ben."

Ben's mouth drifted back as he took in a breath, feeling a twist of conflicting emotion in his gut. Jesse's words - _So what's gonna happen to me?_ - bounced around in his head, summoning up images from Cherokee, and all the other little times where Jesse had waited on the sidelines.

"Not quite there yet," he admitted, hoping that the shudder in his chest didn't reflect in his voice. "You go ahead."

Jesse gave a breath of a laugh. "I'm still dressed, mate. Go on. I love watching you take her. Almost as much as I love taking her myself." He leaned down, giving Claire's bottom lip a quick bite before he met Ben's eyes again. "Almost as much as I love you taking me."

Just the way he'd put it in order was enough to fill Ben out properly, and with a swallow he moved his eyes up to Claire's. She returned the look, hot and needy, her lips parted in breath until she took the bottom one in her teeth, her fingertips still toying with his hair.

Ben slid his arms around her, pulling her against him and nudging upward before turning back into a roll. His hands moving to her waist to help settle her weight, he leaned up and kissed her intensely. Jesse watched them intently, shifting closer to run a hand up Claire's shirt and along her spine.

Claire melted into both kiss and touch, her sigh warmed by her voice and swallowed by Ben's lips. She put her hands on his face, her hair falling in pale curtains across her knuckles until she gave it a quick toss to the side. The valley of her spine deepened the further Jesse's hand traveled. Her shoulders pinched back when his fingertips spanned her shoulder blades.

Ben broke the kiss with a deep inhale, his lips briefly traveling into the crook of her neck as his hands found her shirt and tugged it deftly upward. Once the fabric was out of the way, his hands moved to her hips again, kissing every spare bit of skin he could reach as he pulled her forward on her knees. With a hiss of breath and a kiss to Claire's shoulder, Jesse pulled back to strip off his shirt and shorts before leaning in close to them again. Their bodies radiated heat and he soaked it all in.

"C'mere," Claire breathed, catching Jesse with a hungry kiss when he got close enough, standing up on her knees over Ben. She moved her hand down his pelvis and wrapped her fingers around his cock, brushing up towards the tip, just for good measure as Ben worked her sleeping shorts down her legs.

Thrusting his tongue eagerly past her lips, Jesse slid a hand back into her hair, holding her in place as he explored her mouth. With the two of them locked above him, Ben whined in protest at the barrier between him and Claire. Clearly he hadn't thought things through as well as he should have and, not wanting to separate the two of them, he found the seam in the side of her left leg and gripped it firmly at either end. With a resounding rip the shorts split, slinking down to rest in a pool of fabric behind Claire's knee.

At the noise, Jesse jerked back, and both of them were looking down. Jesse gave a laugh, raising an eyebrow at Ben. "Little horny, are we?" Claire's smile leaned into one cheek, but there were a few more flames behind the look in her eyes.

"Shut up," Ben muttered, feeling the burn in his cheeks as he lined up and plunged Claire downward. Her breath stuttered from open lips as she shifted forward, her palms flat on his chest. Claire closed her eyes, unable to keep them open, her head lolling back with a breathless whisper for god. Ben framed her hips with his hands, holding her steady as he rocked her into him.

Settling back, Jesse wrapped his hand around his cock and gave it a pump in time with Ben's thrust. "Fuck yeah, that's it. Look how much she loves it."

Ben moaned, his own head tipping back against the pillow beneath him as his shoulders pressed back into the mattress. "Get over here," he breathed.

"Bossy," Jesse huffed even as he slid up to them and took Ben's mouth in a kiss. Claire let her chin fall back to her chest, watching them from behind her falling hair. Another wave of heat spread through her core, and she moved her hands from Ben's chest to brace back on his thighs.

Staying connected with him, she adjusted her legs so her weight was braced on her toes instead of her knees, which splayed widely as she rocked down and deep, a gritty moan bubbling up from her throat. Ben broke the kiss with a harsh gasp, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head as the new angle pressed him that much deeper into her.

"Jesus Christ," he rasped, moving his hands to the tops of her thighs and gripping tight for a moment before groaning again. "Kiss her, Jess. Kiss her while I suck you off."

Giving a pleasant shiver, Jesse quickly obeyed, getting to his knees to take Claire's mouth and swallowing the noise she made. Her blood lit on fire, and she kissed him back with that feverish need, revelling in the ache left by Ben's fingertips at her inner thighs. She found her rhythm, sliding slick down Ben's shaft, pushing her thighs further apart with each rock. The friction was building, boiling at the base of her spine and in her legs.

Ben gripped her thighs again, letting out a shuddered breath before he pulled one arm away. He craned his neck to the side before finding Jesse's cock and sliding it past his lips. The angle was a little wrong, a pinch in his nerves making that clear, but he ignored it and made up for it with his enthusiasm. Jesse pulled back, gasping into Claire's mouth even as his hand ran into her hair to hold her steady.

"Fuck, Ben, your mouth. I love your mouth." He twisted his hips to give him better access, though it made his balance precarious. Claire's breath hitched unevenly, twinged with little bits of her voice. Her hands moved from Ben's thighs to the bed next to his legs, twisting into the sheets for more leverage as she upped her pace.

"Oh _god_-" she gasped at the end of a moan, rolling her head back so that her hair dusted Ben's knees. The faint sound of skin on skin accompanied her tightening breaths. The hand still resting on her thigh moved up and inward as Ben found her clit, circling it with his thumb, his pace subconsciously matching the movements of his mouth on Jesse. His hips gently rocking, Jesse couldn't help but shift more towards Ben, searching for a better angle. His head spun as he watched Ben eagerly take him in.

Ben could hear the climbing octave in Claire's voice and knew she was getting closer, and feeling Jesse's hips leaning closer also sent up warning signs. The amount of power he had just then was staggering, and for the briefest moment he lost himself in it, the taking and the giving, eager to feel them falling apart around him.

"I'm-_god, I'm coming_-!" Claire whined, the pulse crashing toward that peak of pace and tension until it finally spilled over. She cried out between gasps, her knuckles whitened in the sheets.

Jesse's hips rolled faster as his eyes snapped to Claire. "Fuck, yeah, that's it baby," he breathed even as his hand settled on top of Ben's head. "So beautiful."

Ben made a choked noise beneath them, his hands going to Claire's hips as he bucked hard. He'd been floating on the cusp of his own orgasm, but as she tightened around him like a vice he felt himself shoved over the edge. His mouth left Jesse as he cried out in release. Claire continued to writhe, riding the pulse until her thighs quivered and burned through the aftershocks.

She opened her eyes; blurred for a moment while the sparks dissipated, they set on the two of them as she shifted her weight off her hands. Still breathing hard, she rocked slow and deep down on Ben, just to feel him twitch. Biting back a groan at the need still pulling at his groin, Jesse leaned down to kiss Ben firmly before pulling up to do the same to Claire.

Still slightly delirious from his own received kiss, Ben watched as Jesse claimed Claire's mouth. He knew the tension in Jesse's body just as well as he knew his own, and Ben circled his fingers around Jesse's cock long enough to give it one teasing stroke.

"Your turn, Jess," he reminded him in a lust-deepened voice. "She's not done yet." As if on cue, a breathy chuckle, drunk with love and lust, pressed against Jesse's lip, right before she nipped it.

With a grin, Jesse grabbed her shoulder and a leg, rolling her off Ben and pinning her in a move right from their practice bouts. "That true, Claire? You want more?"

"_Always_," she promised through a bitten lip. Ben rolled over on his side, mere inches away from them as he stroked a hand up the back of Jesse's thigh.

The touch sent a shiver of surprise through Jesse, but he focused on lifting Claire's hips. He didn't pause long at her entrance, sliding in fully with one hard thrust that shoved her up toward the headboard and stole her breath. She dug her heels into the bed and grounded them both. Ben watched the two of them through a hooded gaze, continuing to touch every spare bit of skin he could reach on either of them in spite of the tiredness slowly seeping into his bones. Every sound they made sent shivers racing through him.

His eyes rolling back, Jesse got in a couple more deep thrusts before bending over her. Balanced on a hand next to her, he took her mouth in a needy kiss as his other hand slid under her ass to lift her higher. Little whines in Claire's higher pitch hummed in time with the snap of Jesse's hips. She ran her hand through his hair, gripping the back of it when she gasped; Ben's fingertips having grazed the sensitive skin over her ribs.

She didn't have enough hands. The one in Jesse's hair slid down his throat and palmed his chest, transfixed by the tensing movement and how hard he breathed. The other caught Ben's hand and slid it down the length of her body to bridge the gap between her hips and Jesse's thighs.

Ben squirmed where he rested on his side, already feeling a stirring in the area just below his naval as he followed Claire's silent instruction. His mind continued to cycle through the remembered sensation of being joined with her.

"Tell me how it feels," came the rumbled inquiry, his eyes passing back and forth between hers and Jesse's faces. "Wanna hear you..."

Breaking from Claire with a gasp of breath, Jesse looked over at him with glazed eyes. "She feels fucking gorgeous," he groaned, his hips snapping harder. "Hot and tight and slick. Taking every piece of me." Claire keened back into the pillow as if on cue, her grip on Ben's hand tightened.

"_God_-so good. I can't-" her eyes closed, clenching as her head rolled back in another moan. A thin sheen on Claire's skin from her exertions caught the red light of the digital clock and made the sheets cling. Her breaths were coming harder and faster.

"Yeah, that's my girl, that's my girl," Jesse said, his voice gravelly as his hand twisted in her hair. Then his eyes snapped to Ben. "Finger her. Help me make her scream."

With every slap of Jesse's hips, Ben's hand was pressed flat between the two of them, but the demand sent all the blood in his body rushing to his groin. He obeyed with fervency, circling his fingers around her clit in ever-tighter circles as his mouth trailed over her shoulder.

The added sensation struck her like lightning; it pulled in her stomach with a hard, surprised breath that was ridden heavily by her voice. Panting, Claire raised her arms back behind her head to hook her fingers on the edge of the headboard, which twitched with their rhythm. She felt dizzy, her blood blazed under her cheeks and the freckles on her chest as she got closer and closer. All it took was an absent opening of her eyes to see the look on their faces, and what they were doing to her. The pressure built to the precipice and teetered there for a full second-her breath stopped and her lips fell apart. Then, arching hard and crying out toward the wall behind her, she tumbled over the edge.

Jesse's mouth fell open as he felt her clench around him and watched her fall apart. It was like fire racing through him and he just wanted to make that moment last and last. Hitching a hand under her knee to lift her leg higher, he increased his pace. "C'mon, Ben," he panted. "Keep going."

Ben let out a low chuckle, tearing his eyes away from the gorgeous sight of Claire's climax to meet Jesse's gaze. "You're the only one who hasn't come yet," he pointed out, easing his hand free from between them to indent his fingers against Jesse's ass. "What's it gonna take? Me fucking you, while you get Claire writhing again?"

A high noise pulled from the back of Jesse's throat and his hips nearly stopped altogether. It was a moment before he could speak. "Well I'm not going to object," he said, his grin not without an edge of desperation. Ben moved up and claimed his mouth in a searing kiss, one hand briefly twisting up in his hair before he withdrew and moved off the bed to find Jesse's bag. It didn't take him long to find the lube - Jesse always kept it in the same place - and within moments he was back again and settled behind him, slicking up two fingers before pressing them in hard.

Giving a shocked cry and screwing his eyes shut, Jesse bit his tongue and tried desperately not to think of the dual sensation of the searing stretch of his ass and the fading hot pulse around his cock. His whole body froze. Breathing hard, he said, "Sorry, Claire. Just...just need a bit." Ben muffled a chuckle against Jesse's shoulder.

She was still panting from coming down off her high and barely able to keep her eyes open-when they were, her vision was a bit static-but she still managed to drop her hands from the headboard and run her fingers up his thighs. The breathless chuckle vibrated through her entire body, as well as around him. "I ain't goin' anywhere," a bit of that Midwestern accent came through in her euphoria and extreme exhaustion, but she didn't want to miss any of this.

Just the sound of her voice alone, all blissed out and sounding like home, filled Ben with bone-deep love and longing for her. He scissor-twisted his fingers as deep as they would go, his hot breath racing down the dip of Jesse's spine as he concentrated on working him open.

"C'mon, baby, I wanna be in you so bad, but you gotta let go," he coaxed in a low, warm voice. "Let go and open up for me."

Concentrating on his breathing made things easier, even as it felt like Ben was reaching for the very center of him. The tension sagged out of him, and then he knew he'd pulled back from the edge. Nodding, he gave his hips a shallow roll. He could feel Ben's lips curve in a crooked smile against his neck as he angled the next thrust and bit his shoulder.

"Tell me what you want."

Giving a whimper, Jesse's hips shifted back against Ben's hand. "You," he breathed, leaning down to nuzzle Claire's neck. "Just want to feel both of you, pinned between you."

Ben pulled his fingers free, finding the bottle where he'd left it in arm's reach, and poured a liberal amount into his hand. His cock was already hard, and he groaned with muted anticipation. _What's gonna happen to me?_ came the echoed words again. Taking a deep breath, Ben tossed the bottle off the end of the bed before slowly easing in, a breath pushing just as slowly out of Jesse.

"Fuck, you're always so big," he said, glancing back at Ben with a smile in his eyes. Ben slid one arm around his front to hold him at the shoulder, his lips grazing on the space of Jesse's cheek an inch in from his ear.

"You love it," he murmured back.

"I do," Jesse groaned through his teeth, pushing back to take in more of him. Ben's breath hitched as he finally settled in deep. Suddenly it was that much harder to breathe, the pleasure rolling through him like thunder.

"You're ours," he said into Jesse's neck, his voice pitched low. "This is where you belong." Jesse felt Claire's breath on his Adam's Apple as well, still labored and hitching as he sank slowly back into her. She grazed her lips just under his jaw, distracted and loving his hand in her hair.

Warmth spreading to every inch of him, Jesse's free hand slid between them, settling on Claire's clit but not moving. His hips started a slow pace, into her, out to Ben, steady as breathing. She hummed a soft moan against his neck, smoothly arching up to meet him. It felt so natural that it was hard to imagine living any other way, tangled up in each other.

"Ours," Ben whispered again. "Say it."

Jesse's breath hitched, his thumb sliding over Claire. "Yours," he breathed. "All yours."

Claire closed her lips just under his ear, touching it with a slow swipe of her tongue before her own jagged breath cooled the moisture. She could feel his heartbeat race in tandem with hers in her chest and between her legs. It was enough to melt more breath into her voice against his neck. "Fall apart-wanna feel every bit..."

Ben deepened the press of his thrusts, his hand leaving Jesse's shoulder to slide through Claire's hair even as his lips trailed down the back of Jesse's neck, sending a shiver down his spine.

"You first." Jesse's fingers started working harder at her clit. "Wanna feel you clench as Ben pounds into me." She twitched in response, gasping against his throat as he ground more hot, undeniable friction between her hips. They pushed up to the touch, lifting the small of her back off the sheets, thighs quivering with the strain. Ben's hand left her hair to move between them, covering Jesse's hand with his as he angled his next thrust.

"Come for me," he growled against Jesse's ear. "_Come for us_," he said a little louder.

A quiver shot through Jesse's spine, his eyes rolling back. The thought to stop himself flitted only briefly through his mind but it felt too good, and they'd told him to. He gave in with a high cry, pounding into Claire for all he was worth. Her voice tainted her next hard breath, gasping uneven and wild. Claire hitched her leg high on Jesse's hip, her ankle resting against the small of Ben's back as she let out a jagged plea for them not to stop.

Ben's body ached with the force of his thrusts, even as the pleasure doubled up and hit him hard. His hand once again shifted away from between them, wrapping around Jesse's shoulder to hold him up. He moaned high and helplessly as Jesse suddenly tightened around him.

"Oh fuck, _yes-!_" he keened.

Panting breathlessly, Jesse's head spun but he clenched as tightly as he could around Ben, sliding a hand back and twisting it into his hair as Ben came. It was as if his whole body seemed to throb with it. He shuddered and shook, shameless sounds of pleasure pouring out of him until exhaustion swept in like a storm cloud. Fearing the loss of his ability to hold himself up, Ben slid out and off to the side, face-down in the sheets.

Every inch of Claire's skin tingled, every nerve ending lit up and blazing as she tried to catch her breath. His chest still heaving with breaths, Jesse slid off Claire, burrowing in the space between them. Exhaustion weighed down his limbs but his veins raced with heat and he didn't think he could sit still. Snuggling down further, he nuzzled Ben's side before giving him a wet raspberry, causing Ben's shoulder to shudder with silent laughter.

Claire wanted to curl in, wanted to laugh with them... Hell, she wanted to open her eyes, but there was nothing left; her batteries were drained. She let her hand flop on her stomach, the other was caught somewhere under Jesse, but it didn't register. Jesse felt it, though, shifting her arm from under him and threading his fingers through hers. His smile faltered as his wrist brushed hers, smooth and ridged in a completely unfamiliar way. From the scars. Letting go of her hand, he crawled over her, bodily nudging her against Ben before draping his arm over them both.

Ben only looked up when he'd felt the brief absence of heat, his brow furrowing slightly, but once the adjustment was over he settled again. The tension in the room had fizzled out into nothing, and exhaustion was currently keeping his worrying at bay. He would deal with the trip in the morning; for now he was satisfied wrapped up in the people he loved.


	38. Episode 20: Set Fire To The Third Bar

A shiver went through Jesse as he stepped into the graveyard. It wasn't the cold; the sun was low but still plenty warm and he was already sweating through his zip-up. He preferred to think it was just because of the sensation coming from the buildings at the other side of the cemetery; he had no doubt they were filled with demons. Or it might be the chill of the angel's blade tucked up his sleeve and pressed against his skin. Not for the first time he had second thoughts about his decision to let Ruth stay behind, but he didn't try to call out for her.

"Belial," he said instead, not entirely sure he would be heard. "I'm here to talk."

"Sure took you long enough."

It wasn't the brown-velvet darkness of Belial's ancient voice behind Jesse, but one that was much more feminine, and much more familiar, save for the subtle brassy undertone that had never belonged to Claire. His chest hitching, Jesse turned, for a moment only capable of staring.

"Get the fuck out of her!" he snapped. The black-eyed version of Claire just smiled brightly at him.

"Not yet, baby boy," she started, taking a few casual steps toward him. With a twist of her hips and folded arms, she leaned against the side of a particularly large gravestone. "We still have a while to go yet, and we can't have Clairey wriggling around on her own too much-like your mother did." If it were possible, the demon made Claire smile even brighter, flashing rows of straight, white teeth. "Don't want her hurting herself, now do we."

Jesse's face went ashen. His mother. What had they done to his mother? "Leave her out of this, leave both of them out of it," he said, half way between demanding and pleading. "I'm here to give in. I'll do whatever Belial wants, as long as he leaves them alone."

A darker breed of Claire's warm chuckle hummed in the back of her throat. She tipped her head toward her shoulder, spilling long, wheat colored waves toward her elbow. It'd been washed and well taken care of. She was even wearing a dress, not the jeans and ruddy tank top Claire'd been wearing when they were attacked on the road.

Movement shifted in the air behind Jesse; a scuffling of careful footsteps. Four pairs of footsteps, to be exact, all belonging to silent, will-broken minions that had been instructed to watch for Jesse's sudden appearance. His eyes darted back behind him. They stood in a half-circle behind him, ready for the woman's signal.

"It's too late for that, Jesse."

"No. No!" he snapped, feeling his heart kick into gear. He glared at the demon with Claire's face. "Take me to Belial! It's not too late!"

Her soulless eyes stared at him for a second of silence, unmoving until she bumped off the stone and circled her finger in the air. Jesse was seized by the arms as the demon turned her back, and started toward the lights in the distance. He hissed in a breath as the angel's blade pressed flat against his arm, but he didn't struggle. This was close enough to what he wanted, and he wasn't going to leave without his mom and Claire. No matter what. 

* * *

><p>Their footsteps were the only sound in the empty halls aside from the buzz of fluorescent lights. The walls were gray and the floors just a shade darker, making them seem endless. On the second floor, they passed open door after open door. Each room was filled with beds of sleeping people. Jesse couldn't help himself.<p>

"Who are they? What are you doing with them?"

The demon inside Claire scoffed hard, barely turning a look over her shoulder. "You should know. You killed half a dozen of them not too long ago."

Jesse's stomach clenched. Nephilim. "What...what's wrong with them?"

Though he couldn't see it since she had her back to him, the sneer on her face sharpened. "Well _gee_, Jesse. We can't have them flocking to your every beck and call, now can we? You seem to be the bad apple that keeps souring any bunch that goes near you."

The minions yanked Jesse hard when his feet stopped, so he settled for scowling. He stumbled slightly as they went up a flight of stairs, but instead of coming to another long hallway, the space opened up into a large, bare room with shining pine floors and large, high-set windows. And Belial.

"Jesse. You made it." Belial smiled, wide and with teeth. "Glad to see you're well."

Claire's casual stride carried her away from Jesse and his heavy-armed escort to circle around to Belial's side, flicking the A-line skirt to keep it in place in the process. His arm slid around her with comfortable ease, pulling her against him.

Jesse's expression twisted and he tried to go towards them, only to be jerked back hard. "Let her go. Enough with the sick games. Just let her and my mom go, and I'll do whatever you want, alright?"

Belial's brows arched. "What proof do I have that you will stay true to your word?"

"We...we could make a deal?" Jesse said, swallowing. He tried to roll his shoulders. "Wasn't that the point of this? I thought...I thought you wanted me here."

"I did," Belial responded solemnly. He turned Claire toward him, lifting her chin and smiling down into her eyes as he added, "but in light of the recent news, your part in my plans is no longer necessary."

Jesse frowned, looking at Claire then back to Belial. "But that would take more time. I'm here now. You _need_ someone like me. Just have your goons let me go and we'll talk."

"We have someone _better_," the demon behind Claire's voice answered musically.

Feeling a twist of panic run through him again, Jesse snarled, "Shut the fuck up. Who are you, anyway?"

Belial pressed his lips to Claire's and the two embraced with surprising intensity. When at last they pulled apart, his hands moved up to cradle her face. She beamed back at him, nuzzling close.

"My wife and your mother."

Jesse's legs sagged, the grips on his arms tightening to hold him up. He stared, and then his expression twisted. "No she's not. You _took_ my mother, like you took my girlfriend. Where is she? Where's my mom?"

"I am your _true_ mother, Jesse," she said, folding her hands curtly in front of her stomach and turning to face him as Belial encircled her with his arms. "Not the meek little woman that raised you, or even the one that bore you." Her shoulders deflated in an exaggerated sigh. "I have to admit I'm a bit disappointed in you."

It shouldn't have hurt. Not coming from a demon wearing Claire's face. But Jesse clenched his jaw. "I told you to shut up and _tell me where my mother is_."

Belial's brows arched, his tone dark when he said, "It's a bit difficult for someone to shut up _and_ say something, son." Before he had a chance to respond, his body was forcefully pinned against the back wall.

The air was knocked out of him and his head spun, but Jesse's first thought was to pin the cuff of his sleeve, keeping the angel's blade where it was. His toes stretched for the ground but came up short. "It's a bit difficult to have a conversation this way," he said, his voice strained. "Just tell me what you want to let them go."

The demon inside Claire simply sighed and shook her head. "I told you that breeder would make him slow witted," she addressed Belial in a jovial but disappointed tone, then set her black eyes right on Jesse as she approached where he was pinned like a bug on the wall. Her footsteps echoed on the hard-wood in the acoustic gymnasium. "Get this through your head, Jesse: you aren't part of the equation anymore. You don't have anything we need."

Jesse stared at her, his stomach turning to stone. That really was it. No bluffing, no tricks. They truly didn't need him. Which meant he didn't have much time. Swallowing, his eyes flicked to Belial before he disappeared.

As he came up behind Belial, Jesse shook out his sleeve, the angel blade sliding out, though the handle caught on his cuff. There wasn't time; he gripped the base of the blade, plunging it towards Belial's back, but the demon turned into the movement with all the ease of a dancer, grabbing his wrist and snapping it in one smooth motion. Jesse screamed, falling to his knees as the blade dropped from his hand. Belial picked it up and looked at it critically, then looked down at Jesse.

"Why am I not surprised..." he muttered, then gave a sigh. "Ruth? I know you can hear me."

Two different bodies materialized in the space a few feet ahead.

"I couldn't find the boy," a familiar voice snarled out with effort. "But I did catch her, floating around the outskirts of the gate."

[ _No no no no no no please no please no please don't hurt me don't hurt him Master I'm sorry I tried I tried-_ ]

"_Let me go!_" Ruth shouted. The demon released her as though she was burned, and Belial immediately began to chant in a deep, angry voice. Ruth collapsed to her knees with a scream of pain, her whole body writhing.

[ _Hurts hurts hurts hurts hurts stop it stop it stop stop stop please stop please stop-!_ ]

"Your track record is starting to seriously slip," Claire's voice chimed in, a bit breathy with disapproval as she looked on Abbey, who was wearing Jesse's adoptive mother.

"L-leave her alone, Belial," Jesse said through gritted teeth, Ruth's agony ringing double in his ears.

"Everyone quiet!" Belial roared. The room immediate silenced, though Ruth continued to whimper helplessly on the floor. With an irritated huff, Belial turned his eyes to Abbey.

"Why could you not find the boy?"

Abbey swallowed hard. "He's untraceable. I've tried every tracking spell I know, and nothing is working. I lost him in Lawrence."

Belial's brows arched a little higher, his eyes once more returning to where Jesse was still settled on the ground.

"Lawrence, Kansas?" he asked Abbey while keeping his gaze firmly on his son. Abbey nodded.

"The Winchesters are originally from there."

Belial frowned, his eyes narrowing. "Return to your rounds. I will summon you when I need you."

Abbey bowed, then disappeared from sight. Belial looked at Ruth, his lips slowly turning up in a smile.

"You wish to prove your loyalty?" he addressed Jesse. "You can start by punishing your second, for her clumsiness and her inability to follow an order."

Jesse's breath hitched, his fingers flexing on his healing hand. Then he glared up at Belial. "She has always followed my orders fine. That's what she was born to do, right? All of them. To follow _me_."

"What," Belial started, his lips twisting upward. "You think she just got out on her own accord? That I would allow her to just leave; the child I specially bred to be your lieutenant?"

His brows raised, but Jesse shook his head. "She can't lie to me. I can hear her thoughts; she wasn't on your side."

Belial's smile widened, then turned mocking. "Son, I've created this institution out of brainwashing. Every single human, from the reclaimed vessels to the drones and your soldiers, are completely subservient to me and my men. How else were they to learn to behave properly?"

"Shut up!" Jesse shoved up to his feet. "She was helping me, that's all that matters! Leave her alone!"

"Shall I show you just how well they listen?" Belial continued, as though Jesse had never said a word. His smile turned feral again, and he once more began chanting. Ruth's body arched on the ground and she inhaled sharply, before all her subconscious signatures went silent; the pulse of loyalty to Jesse was gone, as was the mental panicking. She rolled up into a sitting position before standing again, her face serenely blank. Jesse watched her, his expression drawn.

"That's a good girl," Belial praised. "Abbey, come."

Marta's body materialized a few feet off Belial's flank, and spoke with the named demon's rolled accent. "Yes, Sir?"

Belial met the eyes of his tracker, his smile lengthening. "I need to you burrow down for a few minutes. Ruth needs to show her master one of the tricks she was taught."

Her smile followed suit, leaning to one side before she closed her eyes and went still. When she opened them again, the pitch black irises were replaced by Marta's warm, albeit frightened brown eyes. Panic washed through her body in a wave, stiffening every muscle. Belial stepped close enough to slip the silver angel's blade into Ruth's slack hand, then stepped back again. Only when he was still did the young blond rush forward, pinning Marta to the wall and lifting her with surprising ease. The blade was swiftly stuck into the meat of Marta's side.

"No!" Jesse grabbed Ruth's arm, yanking her back. He didn't think, going straight to Marta, his hand pressing to the wound. "Mom, Mom, please, _no_."

Gasping in uneven breaths and tears streaming from her eyes, they glittered with pain, panic, and confusion. "J-Jesse-? What-" But her voice died off when she clenched her eyes shut. The next second, her very-human shivering stopped, and she was grinning. "Some severe Oedipal complexes you have there, Jesse boy." Abbey's voice sounded in Marta's vocal chords. From behind Belial, the demon in Claire rolled her eyes. Ruth grabbed Jesse at the shoulders and yanked him backward fiercely, flipping him straight onto the ground as Belial smiled with amusement.

Lying there stunned a moment, Jesse quickly scrambled to his feet. "Ruth! Stop this! You're supposed to follow _me_ for fuck's sake!"

He was barely steady when she launched forward yet again, her knife held in reverse so that when she rolled her arm forward with a punch, the blade followed through with the movement and slashed him across the cheek. Jerking back with a cry, Jesse stumbled away, only to have her swing again. He nearly fell over avoiding it, his eyes flashing.

"Freeze!" he ordered. The glazed over look in her eye disappeared as her whole body jerked to a stop mid-punch, and with the order returned the barrage of her subconscious.

[ _Never wanted to hurt him never wanted to fight him hate sir hate sir hate him so much_ ]

Belial laughed out loud, his face alight with malicious humor. "Amazing, isn't she? And you haven't even seen her in the full heat of battle. Ruth is our most vicious, most cunning warrior."

The petite blond's eyes widened and she whimpered in protest.

[ _Please please please don't kill me don't kill me don't wanna die-_ ]

"Jess, please," she whispered. "Get away."

Jesse set his jaw as he stared at her. Then, the order firm, he said, "Run, Ruth, and don't come back."

[ _No-_ ]

But the thought was barely registered before Ruth disappeared from sight. Part of Jesse wanted to follow her. It might even be the smart thing to do. But Claire and his mother were here. Instead he turned to Belial, wiping the drying blood from his cheek with his now healed hand.

"He's soft," Claire's demon said, quite matter-of-factly.

"He won't be forever," Belial answered. "Not after tonight."

"Oh, now I'm scared, _Dad_," Jesse snorted before disappearing. This time he came up on Belial's side, already mid-swing. It came short when Claire stopped his arm with an unnaturally strong hand around his wrist, her other palm snapped forward, slamming Jesse in the chest to send him flying toward the wall. He crumpled to the floor but kept his eyes on them, breathing hard through a sharp pain in his rib. Belial merely grinned.

"Careful, love," he told her. "Remember your current condition."

"Yes, of course," she replied with a cold half-grin in Jesse's direction, then turned to take her place at Belial's side, smoothing the front of her dress. "Though I wouldn't worry. You were right: this one is _much_ stronger."

"So you have someone else?" Jesse grunted as he pushed to his feet. "Then why are you fucking with me? Give me back Claire and my mom and you'll never see me again."

Abbey, who had been quiet up until that moment, chuckled quietly. She immediately went silent when Belial turned his eyes in her direction.

"Afraid we can't do that, son," Belial answered. Jesse was once again pressed against the nearest wall by an invisible force, this time with crushing weight. "As a matter of fact, the only reason you're still alive is because I want to keep true to my promise. My word is my bond, after all." The demon strolled up to him, smiling that same thin-lipped smile. "I really wish it didn't have to be this way. You have so much potential, and it takes so long to grow up a proper general, but perhaps we can have the girl work a little earlier if she manifests quickly."

All Jesse could get out was a choked gurgle, his body straining against the invisible force even as the pain in his rib flashed red. His eyes went to his mom and Claire and he disappeared, coming up at Claire's side. He grabbed her arm and reached for his mom, power in his voice as he said, "Come wi-"

Belial cut him off sharply, grabbing him by the back of the head and slamming him face-down onto the nearby desk. Jesse only had a moment of searing pain before the world tunnelled into darkness. 

* * *

><p>The questions hadn't taken long to fizzle out to nothing, and then there was nothing left to do but drive. Part of Ben preferred it that way, especially because he hadn't heard from Jesse in nine hours. When he'd stormed the fortress in Le Grande, he'd been back in less than a few hours, and Ben knew deep down that Jesse would disregard his request to play it safe if he thought he could get Claire out.<p>

The only reason he hadn't gone straight to calling on the angel still hovering around his subconscious was the gun against his side and the warning the Mosleys had given him, and even then he couldn't help but worry the choice over and over until his thoughts started racing. Without realizing it, his foot had pressed a little farther down on the acceleration.

Dean was hunched back against the door, his eyes closed, but they opened at the feel of the car. He glanced at Ben, then at the road, before closing them again. "Ease up there. You got about ten miles before we hit a speed trap."

"We're four hours behind schedule because of easing it up," Ben argued, struggling to keep quiet so as not to wake Sam. Though honestly, he was struggling to find reason enough to care at all about Sam's sleeping, but he needed to be ready for what was coming. No sense in robbing energy from his so-called back-up.

"I'm just warning you, kid," he said with a breath of a grunt. "Way you're acting, you're bound to tear the head off of any cop that pulls you over, and being in jail won't help nobody."

"I'm not a kid," came the snapped reply.

That got Dean to look up, his eyebrows raised. "To me you are, and you're just proving my point."

Ben's hands tightened on the wheel. "Oh, there's a point? That's new. And here I was thinking you were just helping me out of the deep-seated obligation in your heart."

Dean's voice stayed steady. "Could drop you off the side of the road right here if you want that instead. No skin off my ass."

"Y'know," Ben said, his lips curving up in a bitter smile. "I would honestly _love_ to see you try, Dad."

Looking over at him, Dean's expression was placid. "And that would help your girlfriend, would it?"

Ben could feel his temper bubbling to the surface, and had to forcefully swallow down a shout about how at least he stuck by his girlfriend. It was enough to make him pull back a little and reanalyze the exchange between them, from the front of Bobby Singer's old porch to that moment in the Impala. Everything had been an argument. For the briefest moment he couldn't help compare it to most of his earlier conversations with Jesse, but that only made Ben's heart ache for him more.

_Never should've left them,_ he berated himself again. _This is my fault. All of this, and for what..._

Dean watched him a while before sitting up. "It's eating you, I know. Believe me, kid, I've been in your shoes more times than I can count. But the only way you can help her now is to push it aside. A hunt is a time to use your brain and your gut. You let your heart take the lead and shit goes south."

Ben stayed quiet, anger and guilt twisting around in him so hard that he felt sick. He'd given Jesse almost the same speech, right after he'd nearly lost his mind chasing Claire to Oregon.

"That why you left?" he blurted before he could stop himself.

The ease went right out of Dean, his eyes turning towards the road. "Told you. I'd already brought enough down on you and your mom."

"If we hadn't wanted you there, she never would've let you in the front door in the first place," Ben countered. "I found those books, you know. Read all of 'em cover to cover in a month."

Dean scowled in confusion. "Books?"

"Carver Edlund's books."

"Who-" Dean's eyes widened. "Shit, Chuck? Those damn books are still in print?"

His reaction alone was enough to fill Ben with a smug sort of satisfaction. "No, but that doesn't mean they aren't in circulation. I found them at my high school."

Dean actually laughed. "You read that shit in high school? Considering those covers, that's pretty ballsy."

Ben felt heat burning its way into his face but said nothing. "Point being, I'm finding it a little funny that you're giving me the head-up-eyes-forward lecture when you basically ran away from the few people you came to love."

"I was protecting you," he said, his volume rising.

"Still not buying it," Ben interjected with an almost bored quality to his voice.

"Your mom had already taken me out of her life, Ben," Dean snapped. "We both knew it was putting you in danger. I was just making it easier on her and safer for you."

"Y'know what I haven't heard yet?" Ben said, ignoring the tone and trying not to let the smugness of having riled him up show on his face. "Any implication that you gave a damn about what I wanted."

"You were twelve; 'course I didn't give a damn what you wanted. You don't let kids run their own lives."

Ben let out a bark of a laugh. "Your dad sure didn't mind with the two of you," he pointed out with a edge of meanness in his tone.

"Which is why I wasn't gonna do that to you." Dean's tone was final, his eyes going to road again.

Before Ben realized what he was doing, he was pulling sharply off onto the shoulder and slamming on the brakes. Sam startled awake at the movement, automatically reaching for his gun before he stopped himself.

"What's g-"

"Why didn't you want me!" Ben shouted, completely oblivious of Sam in the backseat, his throat going hoarse with the sheer volume of his scream. The silence that fell was deafening.

Hands braced on the dash and eyes wide, Dean stared at him. "Shit, kid," he said, his voice quiet. "I did. That year I had with you and your mom, that was the best of my life. But you can't have that with the job. Kids, home, a normal life; that ain't possible. Once you're in, you're stuck. And I wasn't taking you down with me."

"Who the fuck wants normal?" Ben cried out in protest. "Not even normal people want fucking normal! I didn't want normal, I just wanted my family!"

Sam looked between the two of them silently, taking in the conversation and trying to process what was going on. He'd started to slowly come into it midway through when he'd heard Dean's voice rising, but seeing the two men argue was too much like watching him and his own father fighting. The difference there being that Ben put to words the one thing Sam had never been able to say.

"That's what you had, kid! Your mom, your step-dad, your sister, that's the family you deserved."

Ben just wanted to scream until there was nothing left in him. Everything he'd hoped for, everything he'd wanted from his father, was turning out wrong. His whole life was turning out wrong.

"But it's not what he wanted," Sam said quietly. Ben looked up into the rearview mirror and caught Sam's expression.

"I get it, Ben," he said in an even, rational voice. "And I know you're pissed about everything that's happened, just as much as I know you hate this shit being tossed at you about not having a family on the road. It's not that it isn't possible; it's just that we couldn't do it. With what was going down that year, and no idea if it was gonna get any better... it's one thing to feel bad if a stranger dies in the crossfire, but you know how we've reacted to having lost each other."

Dean's jaw worked, his expression pinched. His voice was a bit gruffer when he spoke. "You wanna hop in the back so you ladies can hash it out while I drive?"

"And risk your pirate's leg sliding off the clutch so we all roll into a ditch and die? No thanks," Ben said in the same rough voice, kicking the car back into gear as he merged back onto the highway again.

Dean's expression pinched tighter but he didn't say anything as they drove on. 

* * *

><p>The world came into focus slow as sunrise. Jesse shifted, trying to roll his head, only it wouldn't move. He tried lifting an arm to find out why only to feel a tug at his wrist. His chest, his hips, his ankles... His eyes snapped open and he thrashed against his bonds, but they held tight, just as he knew they would. He'd been bound like this before, only this time he was suspended from a frame he couldn't quite see. The shadows on the ground showed the long, sharp angles of a hexagram, a symbol he'd long-familiarized himself with from Claire and Ben's devil's traps.<p>

"No, no, no, no, no, please, no-" His breath hitched as his eyes rolled to see Claire standing by him. She was smiling, and her eyes were black.

"_Heavens_, what a whiner," she said coldly, circling around to his front with slow, high-heeled steps. "No one's even touched you..."

"Please, just let me go, let me go." His breath was already growing quick with panic. Claire's face tightened into an unimpressed sneer.

"All that potential, all that strength and power we gave you, and you're still a child." She turned from him briefly, and took a few short steps to a long table nearby, where she leaned, swinging one leg with a comfortable ease. "Such a shame, and a waste." Her head shook as she sighed, disappointment heavy in her voice. "_Not_ making that mistake again."

Jesse sagged, his eyes wide. "You've done it to someone else. You're making another cambion."

Her smile spread in a soft note of genuine, womanly laughter. "Well, that was the original plan, yes." She shifted on her feet, crossing one ankle over the other and dutifully looked at her nails. They'd been manicured and polished a pale, petal pink. "Things have changed a bit, thanks to your pretty pet, here."

Jesse's hands clenched. "She's a vessel; so what? You have hundreds of those already, you don't need her."

Claire's eyebrows shot up, and her head canted like a curious puppy. She wore a smile that never seemed to go away. "Are your instincts _really_ that dulled by your spoiled upbringing?" She bumped off the edge of the table, coming up close. "You don't see anything different about her?" The smile twitched a little. "Besides me, of course."

"You..." Jesse's stomach twisted. "You're using her for the cambion. Like you used my mom."

Claire's lips pursed, then spread to her grin again. "_Close_-but you beat us to it."

The world seemed to narrow, focused in on that horrible smile that was nothing like Claire's. "No. No, demons lie."

Again, the demon giggled, almost girlishly. "That's right, we do. So do humans. So do _you_. I wonder... can you look into her eyes and deny what I _know_ you can see-once it's been pointed out to you?" She trailed a fingertip along the line of his jaw, watching its path before settling on his eyes again. "Would you like to tell her? She doesn't know yet."

"I'm...I'm not telling her anything, because it's not true," he said, his voice getting quieter with each word.

"Aww, _baby boy_," she cooed with false sympathy, then gripped his chin and pressed Claire's body against him and the straps that held him rigid. "_Yes, you are_. You can feel the best parts of you in her, mixing with that Vessel blood. She would've made a strong brother or sister for you-but now..." The freckles on the bridge of her nose wrinkled with the sheer glee in her smile. "Well-you won't be around to see the true power of your little legacy."

Before he could respond, her eyes closed and her body deflated like the release of a sigh. It tensed right up again when Claire's blue eyes suddenly snapped open, unfocused and clearly panicked.

"Claire?" Jesse's voice caught on the word. He wanted so desperately to hold her, to take her to safety. Instead he was powerless and she was trapped, because he fucked up twice over. "I'm sorry. It's my fault, I'm sorry."

The sharpness came back to her eyes when she took a step back out of sheer instinct, and saw the way he was trussed up like a butchered turkey. His words made as much sense as the room she found them in, but the last memory she had - of being slammed against the GTO door with oily smoke shoving down her throat - helped clear a few things up quick. Unfortunately, it also twisted her stomach in a wave of near crippling nausea, which she tried to swallow back as she went for the strap on Jesse's wrist. "Explain it to me later," she breathed tightly, trying to will her fingers not to shake like leaves.

For a moment, a tendril of hope crept through him, but it quickly dissipated. "She's still inside you, you won't be fast enough. I love you, but- I'm sorry, I should've thought, should've been more careful."

Claire felt the pit of her stomach drop and her lungs empty of air. For a moment, all her concentration zeroed in on Jesse's face.

The next moment, the cold shark's smile was back, even more out of place, considering her eyes stayed their usual clear blue.

"Slow-witted _and_ a coward." She stepped back, leaving his bindings in place.

He blinked furiously, his eyes pointed up. "Why are you doing this? You don't care what Claire knows."

"Exactly right," she replied in a jovial tone. "I knew you wouldn't tell her. Consider it a courtesy, from me to you. You won't be seeing her again."

His breath hitched, his eyes screwing shut. _Ben, Ben, I'm sorry. Please..._ He didn't dare put words to it. Instead, he breathed deep. "At least I'll be done with you soon enough."

That seemed to perk the demon's attention briefly away from the menagerie of tools on the table. She arched a brow at him over her shoulder, then looked back down. "Is that right? Planning some big escape as elaborate as your idea of flailing an Angel blade at your father was?" She started wiggling on a pair of latex gloves. "Or you think you're just going to give up. Keel over and die with your tail between your legs."

The guilt twisted hard but he tried to keep his face blank, not even opening his eyes. "Either way."

The demon sneered and scoffed at the same time, plucking a pair of pliers and a switchblade from the table. The sound of water followed when she carefully dunked them in the small tray of blessed water. "Perhaps you don't remember, Jesse." She turned and approached him slowly, a smug look in her now black eyes and an instrument in each hand. "We're a very _patient_ breed."

As she started to reach to likely flay a piece of skin from Jesse's shoulder, something stiffened the demon's lead arm. For the first time, her face showed something other than sadistic, confident glee. It slowly twisted, tightened and pinched as if she were being burned from the inside out. The struggle went on for a handful of seconds, escalating to the point where her voice scraped the back of her throat in a guttural growl, and she curled in on herself, dropping both tools to the ground.

Panting, Claire snapped her head up, blue eyes already clenching as her internal fight continued. Jesse watched in horrified fascination.

"Claire? Claire! Fight that fucking bitch, baby!"

The door on the far facing wall opened and Belial moved through it, his mouth twisting into a frown at the sight and sounds that met his eyes.

"You let her surface for a moment, didn't you?"

He was answered by Claire's struggle-heavy voice spouting sporadic bits of Latin. She had fallen awkwardly to her knees, scars peeking out from her dress' straps as her shoulders shifted and jerked, until she finally stilled. The demon cleared her throat and made a show of composing herself, but her earlier carefree smile was long gone.

"Barely two seconds."

"Too late now!" Jesse practically laughed. He knew that it was bluster more than anything, that no one actually fought their way out of a demon, but he'd take anything to shove in their faces. "You don't know Claire. She's got your weak spot now, so it's only a matter of time."

Belial's frown deepened as he moved to help Claire stand. "We really don't need a repeat of Julia," he said sternly. "I'll pick up where you left off."

Claire's face soured, but there was more cold concern in the expression than the simple displeasure of being scolded. After smoothing her dress, one palm remained across her stomach as she nodded solemnly, and turned toward the door.

"He knows of the child," she said quietly to Belial, then pointedly narrowed her eyes at Jesse. "That's _his_ weak spot." With that, she turned and left. Belial chuckled in response, turning his eyes back to Jesse.

"I knew I picked her for a reason," he said with a dark grin, picking up the two tools where they'd fallen before depositing them into their tray. "Blood is so messy. I like my method better." He clenched his right fist slowly, and pain immediately started shooting outward from Jesse's chest. Jesse arched hard against the bindings, clenching his jaw to try to keep from screaming. The pain seared higher and higher, though, until he couldn't hold back.

"_Please!_ Belial, anything! Please stop!"

"It'll stop when your other pet arrives," Belial said, his voice low and soothing. "I know he's on his way. Hunters can never just sit idly by while they know someone they love is in danger, and I know you're not a complete idiot, son: he knows exactly where to find us."

Teeth gritted hard, Jesse shook his head, tears trailing from the corners of his eyes. He was beyond words though as the fire raged through him. When he couldn't hold back any longer, a scream ripped from his throat, long, loud, and never-ending as the pain. 

* * *

><p>Ben remembered the brightness of the room with no definition; all white walls and no doors or windows, but with the echoing vastness of a grand hall that lead to nowhere. Apprehension had started pulling at every nerve. What made it all the worst was that he'd actually been having a pleasant dream prior to the sudden invasion: being back in the big king-sized bed in Louisiana, and waking up next to Jesse and Claire.<p>

"Can't I have any damn peace, even in my own head!" he shouted into the empty space.

"You could, but it would be a lie."

He turned to find Amitiel standing there, his brows knit in slight concern but his posture lax. "Where are you going, Ben?"

Ben scowled, both at the immediate answer and the question that followed it, though it didn't stay long. The gris-gris bag was working, even on the angel in his head.

"Finding Belial, like you said."

"We've been unable to locate you, or your companion, Claire." Amitiel's eyes narrowed, his head tilting. "Is she with you?"

"No," Ben answered, angry and flat. "She isn't. Funny thing, hunting for a boss demon: he sends his goons after you every chance he can without making himself known."

Amitiel stiffened. "He has taken her again?" His lips pursed. "And this time we can't reach her. Where is the cambion?"

"You were able to reach her before!" Ben shouted, his hands twisting into fists at his sides. "And you _left her there!_"

Waving a dismissive hand, Amitiel said, "You misunderstand. Before we could not come to her physically, but we could speak to her, soothe her. It was how we knew she was free of the hotel and it could be destroyed. But now she can't be found. Where is the cambion?"

"If you could have soothed her, why the fuck didn't you try and get a location from her and tell me?" Ben countered, his voice dropping to a growl.

"You do not think that is exactly what we would have done had it been possible?" Amitiel raised a brow. "Your questions are helping no one, and you refuse to answer mine. Was the cambion the one that took her?"

The rage was instantaneous, and without any thought to the uselessness of the action, Ben stormed the angel borrowing his face and lifted him straight off the ground.

"Don't you dare talk about him like that," Ben growled out furiously. "He would _never_ do that to her, not _ever._"

The angel didn't so much as blink at the outburst. "Your anger helps no one either. If you do not directly tell me what is happening, then I am forced to draw my own conclusions."

Ben dropped him forcefully, taking a small amount of pleasure at the way he stumbled in the process of trying to right himself.

"Screw you, asshole," he spat out. "I'm liking you a little less with every word coming out of your mouth. Get the hell out of my head."

"I am only trying to help. We want no harm to come to you or Claire. And if what we suspect is true, then it is imperative we rescue Claire as soon as possible. It is time, Ben." Amitiel's eyes fixed on his. "You cannot go in alone."

"I decide when it's time," Ben answered gruffly. "Not you. But thanks for the conference, it's definitely helped put a few things into perspective. Don't call us, we'll call you, et cetera. Now _get out._"

Amitiel's expression darkened but he took a step back. Before he disappeared he said, "He will kill the cambion, and he will use Claire to make another in his image. This cannot be allowed to happen."

A flicker of fear registered on Ben's face, but before he had a chance to respond, the angel vanished from sight. A blond suddenly appeared in the spot he'd vacated, and for a moment he almost thought it was Claire, but the shape of her face was different.

"You have to hurry," she said in a small, rapid voice. "Fast as you can."

It took Ben a minute before the recognition clicked into place, and then his eyes widened. "Ruth?"

"They trapped him. He can't get out. He ordered me away and I can't save him, and they're gonna kill him unless-"

"Slow down," Ben said quickly, moving forward and grabbing hold of her shoulders. She tensed underneath his touch before shaking like a leaf. "I'm getting there as fast as I can, but we're still a few hours out."

"I can take you to him," she said in a tight voice. "But I can't find you."

Ben felt a twist of anxiety in his chest. It could be a trap, for all that she'd healed both him and Claire. He remembered in the books, how Sam's demon helper had double-crossed him in the end.

"I don't know you," he confessed. "How do I trust you?"

"Because I love him," Ruth answered. "I would never, ever betray him. I would die first. And he's about to die for all of us, just to buy you time. _Please._"

Ben took a breath and let it out, the panic inside him swelling. "I can't get rid of the gris-gris bag, or they'll find me too. Do you have a phone, or some way I can contact you?"

"You can summon me," Ruth told him. Her hand came up to touch his forehead and suddenly the sigil burned behind his eyelids, as bright as the sun. "Draw this out with your blood, and call my name. Hurry now, there isn't much time."

A sudden bump in the road jolted him awake and Ben gasped, sitting straight up.

"Stop the car."

Dean jerked around, looking at Ben in the backseat. "Whoa, easy there, kid. You were dreamin'."

"Not a dream," Ben said in the same pressing tone. "Please stop the car."

Sam looked sideways at Dean with a concerned frown. Dean just shook his head and shrugged. "His hunt; he's the one calling the shots."

Still frowning, Sam pulled off onto the shoulder. The car hadn't even finished braking before Ben threw the door open and jumped out, pulling out his switchblade and slicing into his hand. Without a clean surface to work on, he automatically moved to the top of the trunk of the Impala.

"Hey!" Dean yelled, pulling himself out of the car and limping over unnaturally fast. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Taking the express route," Ben said flippantly, barely registering the pain as he worked out the sigil. "I gotta get there now, there's no time."

Still standing at the open driver's side door, Sam shot Dean a look; it was more worried than confused. Dean's wasn't any happier. He watched Ben a moment, the action achingly familiar. He grabbed Ben's shoulder.

"Are you summoning a demon? Kid, you got no idea-"

But Ben already dragged out the last stroke of the sigil.

"Ruth! Ruth, please!"

The blond appeared two feet off to the left of the three men, blue eyes wide in a perpetual look of alarm but her lips pressed in a determined line. Ben turned to his father and uncle.

"Thank you," he breathed out in a rush. "I know I've fucked things up, just showin' up on your doorstep, but... thank you. I won't bother you again."

For the first time since he was thirteen, Ben saw true panic on his father's face. "_Ben_."

Ben gave him a weak smile, before pulling away and reaching for Ruth's hand. She took it wordlessly, and the two vanished.

It was hardly a second before Dean limped back to the passenger seat. "Get in the car, Sam!"

Sam's jaw set with dark anxiety in his eyes, but he didn't hesitate, slipping back into the car and slamming the door behind him. 

* * *

><p>The air nearly exploded out of Ben when they touched down on the ground. Pain shot through him from the soles of his feet all the way to his shoulders.<p>

"Sorry," Ruth said in a rush. "Never actually moved two people at once before."

Her answer filled him with alarm. "_What?_ How'd you know it'd even work?"

"I didn't," came the quieter answer. Ahead of them loomed a large building, eerily frightening even in the daylight. The windows were dark and grimy, and the paint had a similar faded, peeling look as Bobby Singer's old house. Ben trusted it that much less for the fact that Bobby's house had been seemingly unoccupied.

"Where is he?"

"Third floor gymnasium," Ruth answered. "There's gonna be roadblocks. He'll have called demons by now, knowing you were on your way."

"I can handle demons," Ben answered. "Thank you, Ruth."

"Just be careful," she whispered. In the span of a blink, she was gone. Steeling himself up, Ben started toward the property, but he only got three steps before a very familiar voice called out behind him.

"Well Ruth, you've learned a new _trick_," Claire's voice rang clear as a dark brass bell, calling out to the young woman who was no longer there, even though her black eyes were on Ben. His pulse jacking up, Ben immediately grabbed the flask from his thigh holster midstep, flipping up the cap and tossing the contents at her in a wide arc.

Claire shrieked as thin smoke sizzled off her skin where the holy water had fallen. The sound quickly dissolved into a hateful growl. She bared her teeth at him like an angry animal, and an unseen force lifted him off the ground and slammed him sideways into the nearest towering oak.

Ben let out a choked noise at the pressure before spitting out: "_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus_-"

"Try again, lover boy," she hissed out through a maniacal grin while composing herself; straightening her hair, smoothing her dress. "I'm afraid Claire and I don't dance to that tune."

Ben felt a wave of alarm hit him, but he hid it in an angry sneer.

"So help me God, you black-eyed bitch, if you've hurt her-"

"Oh, _Ben_," she cooed in a sickly sweet voice, with a smile that matched. "You've got it all wrong. Claire is much safer with me than she _ever_ was with you." The weight pinning him to the tree lifted, dropping him roughly to the ground. Before Ben could get to his feet, there were five other pairs suddenly surrounding him. Ben yanked out the gun and immediately fired at the first body within range. The bullet bit into the demon, his eyes lighting up as his face contorted with surprise, before he fell down dead. The gleeful grin on Claire's face instantly melted away.

"Back up!" He barked out. "All of you, back up!" The demons hesitated slightly, but leered as they eased back out of arm's reach. Claire stayed firmly rooted to her spot, scowling.

"Nifty toy you have there. That a six-shooter?" Her tone made it clear she was making a point rather than asking a question. Then, just as fast as it had gone, her toothy smile was back. "One for each of us?" Before he could answer, she blinked out of existence, then reappeared directly behind his back. An iron grip seized Ben's wrist, while her other fist slammed up into his elbow, bending it the wrong way. Ben screamed in pain, the gun falling out of his spasming hand as he collapsed from the sheer agony.

He was hefted up by the shoulders as Claire calmly stooped to pick up the revolver, examining it gingerly. She didn't even look at the other demons as she turned, strolling toward the building. "Four of you bring him-and you, watch for that rogue." 

* * *

><p>His eyes weren't working right. The room swayed with flickering brightness, like staring at the sun from under water. Jesse's mind drifted with it, not in a state of bliss, but as close as he could manage. Right now was between pain. That's how he could split up his life now: pain and between pain. Or pain and waiting. He wanted nothing more than to slip into a black sleep, but Belial seemed well acquainted with that line and wasn't about to let Jesse cross it.<p>

"I didn't want it to have to be this way, you know," his father said, the words low and behind him as he circled him. "My only regret in all of this is not having been there when your mother gave birth. All of this could have been avoided. You would have been exquisite."

The words took a while to swirl through the morass of Jesse's mind, so his response was delayed. "Anything." The words were slurred and rough. "Please. Stop. I'll do anything."

Belial sighed. "Why would I believe you now? You tried to kill me. I can't have that back-and-forth with you, son."

Earlier Jesse might have cried, but he was beyond that now. "You...you said you needed someone who fought," he said quietly.

"Not against _me_," he tutted, reaching up to pat Jesse's cheek. "You misinterpret things so easily."

Jesse flinched from the touch. The world was more focused, the edges sharpening. He was almost somewhere close to normal again. Which meant the pain was about to come. "Teach me. Please. It's not too late."

"That's the desperation talking," Belial answered. The demon let his eyes wander up to the ceiling and he sighed again, shaking his head. "You have no idea just how powerful you are. You could tear the world asunder; rebuild it from the ground up and remake it the way it _should_ be. And what have you done this whole time?" He brought his gaze down to Jesse's again. "Nothing. Running and hiding. Twisting the humans to fulfill your petty desires. I applaud the last bit, but you could have done _so much more,_ and you never even tried. You have no ambition."

"I didn't know how," Jesse rasped, his eyes pleading. "No one taught me. I didn't have anybody."

"Because you _ran_," Belial growled out again. "Listening to _hunters._ We would have won the war. And then you let hunters corrupt you even further, just when we found you again."

"They didn't corrupt me." Jesse's eyes flashed, fire behind his words. "They're good."

"Foolish child," Belial said. "They would just as soon try to destroy you the moment you harnessed your true power. I'm saving you, don't you see? When you die, you will return to us, no longer chained to this mortal body and all the bindings attached to it. You will be free. And this child..." His smile widened. "Never in all the history of the cosmos has a child like this been conceived. The possibilities are endless, and we owe it all to you."

That last glimmering attempt to fight drifted away as Jesse's stomach clenched. His eyes focused on the ceiling, done with talking.

"Look what Ruth dragged back to us before scrambling off again." Claire's voice echoed through the large room, along with the click of her heels and the five sets of footsteps behind her-one of which was more dragged.

Belial turned in the direction of the voice, grinning widely. "Well, now. There's one I'm glad we allowed off her leash. Benjamen! Long time no see."

His breath catching, Jesse thrashed against his bindings. "No!" he rasped as loud as he could. "Ben, run!"

The demons were visibly straining to keep Ben held still, and even with a broken arm he was fighting like a trapped animal. Belial laughed.

"I _like_ him," the demon proclaimed. "Fighting the good fight, even at the end of the line. That's the Winchester spirit if I ever saw it. I wonder..." his lips twisted up in a grin. "Maybe we should keep him. Michael will need a new vessel soon enough, if all goes well."

"It's a risk," the demon inside Claire chimed in with a hint of concern in her oddly jovial voice. She was twirling the gun around one finger by the trigger guard. "As long as he's alive, _this one_ will keep tearing at her cage."

"True..." Belial hummed, strolling up to where Ben was being held. "Though I do hate killing off the last of that bloodline. Maybe I should take him for a bit of a spin?"

Ben spat in his face. "Fuck off and die, you demonic sonuvabitch!" he roared. His eyes turned to Claire. "Please, I know you can hear me, please just- you've got the Colt. You can shoot him. _Claire, please!_"

Jesse bucked desperately, a yell pulling from his throat, but not from pain. He needed to stop them; they couldn't kill Ben. A low, deep rumble started from far below and the room began to quiver. One of the four demons holding Ben still moved his hands to Ben's head, ready to snap his neck. Belial wiped his face and smile.

"Too bad the baby she's carrying isn't yours," he sneered, his eyes rolling white as he looked into Ben's suddenly terror-stricken face. "Bye-bye, now."

But instead of the snap of bone, Belial's cryptic words were answered by the metallic click of a revolver's hammer. Claire's wide blue eyes stared behind the Colt's site as the barrel pressed against the demon's temple.

"Jezebeth, no," Belial gasped, his hand going up to grab for Claire's wrist, but before he could get a grip, she pulled the trigger. The bang of the gunfire echoed unnaturally loud in the space, light exploding around the wound as Belial's host spasmed, then collapsed. The drones still residing in the room startled as if awakening from sleep, their blank faces contorting with confusion, fear, and panic before scrambling over each other in an attempt to get away.

Claire doubled over, her face twisted with the painful struggle that dropped the gun to the cracked flooring. A guttural scream started at the back of her throat, and grew in volume like banshee when her shaking stopped. She dropped to the body's side, grasping at it desperately. Jezebeth's solid black eyes snapped up at Ben, every line and perfect angle of her face contorted with rage.

"_YOU_-!" An invisible force slammed into him with the momentum of a freight train, the stone in the wall behind him starting to crack as she pinned him high and out of reach, then began to pull separately at each limb. Ben screamed in pain, his eyes rolling. Claire stood up, her fists balled at her sides as she stalked closer. "I am going to _paint this place_ with your blo-"

"Jezebeth, _stop!_" Jesse roared the order, almost snarling. "And stay the fuck where you are!" He rolled his head as far as he could, unable to see the whole room but seeing the other demons still there. "Demons, go to Hell!"

The four demons that had once been holding Ben screamed in unison, dark smoke billowing out of them in a rush before their hosts collapsed. Ben also fell to the ground audibly, the air exploding out of him.

"Ben? Ben, are you alright?" Jesse twisted his neck, trying to see. Ben groaned from where he had settled, curling into himself with a choked off sob. "She's stuck to Claire, somehow. I can't get her out."

The doors suddenly burst open mere feet away as the Winchesters finally arrived.

"_MONGRELS!_" the demon inside Claire screeched, frozen in her place. "_Usurpers!_ You will all burn-starting with _this one_!" she hissed, tearing at herself in her rage.

"FREEZE!" Jesse yelled.

Dean had only just started to move towards where Ben had collapsed, but the moment the words were out of Jesse's mouth he was unable to move. His eyes widened with surprise and shock, and Sam's mouth fell slightly open.

"_Specifics, Jesse,_" Ben whimpered from where he was still curled against himself.

"S-sorry," Jesse breathed. He pressed power behind his next words. "Ben, Sam, Dean, you can move all you want." Exhaustion rolled over him, but he shook his head. "There's a demon in Claire, but we can't get her out. Help her, please."

Sam gawked openly at Jesse once he was free to move before looking at his brother, then to the blond standing a few feet away like a statue. He inhaled sharply as recognition bloomed on his face.

"Claire. Jimmy's Claire."

"The fuck is going on here?" Dean muttered even as he carefully knelt next to Ben. "Kid, you okay? Deep breaths."

"Demon broke my arm," he said in a choked voice. "Please, just... help her. It won't respond to an exorcism. Please."

Sam rushed over to where Claire still stood, grabbing her arm and twisting it up to inspect it. Finding nothing, he checked the second one, then let out a bitter laugh.

"Binding link, huh? Very retro." He pulled out his buck knife and a lighter, immediately flicking it to life beneath the blade. Jezebeth stared him down with every fiber of hatred in Hell.

Dean only spared him a glance before tending to Ben, gently laying him flat. "Sam's got it; he could do this one in his sleep. Here, ease your arm out," he said. Ben recoiled painfully, his face scrunching up as Dean helped straighten his arm.

"You didn't have to come," he rasped out.

"Didn't think I had to, either," Dean said, shrugging off his overshirt before starting to tear it into strips. "But we weren't gonna leave you hanging out to dry."

"Such a _touching_ reunion," the demon hissed in Claire's voice, lacing it with now familiar poison. Her sneer held a sickening hint of an evil smile, resigned to do as much damage on her way out as possible. "You listen well, _boys_. As soon as I crawl back out, I promise the _first_ thing I'm coming for is this little whore and the child. They're _mine_, now-you hear me?"

"Go ahead and try, bitch," Jesse snarled from where he still lay bound. "We'll be waiting with a bullet just for you."

"You're never taking her again," Ben vowed as well. Sam brought his eyes up to the demon inside Claire's, bringing the edge of the knife down against the binding link. It hissed and sizzled, and Jezebeth bared her teeth, promising Hell in her gritty scream.

"_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,_" Sam chanted, his voice growling and low with an expert's speed. "_Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica._"

"I will _personally_ greet each of you in the Pit!" she snapped, her face tightened, twitching in pain.

"_Ergo, draco maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos._" With one final thrash, Claire's chin arched back, screeching and spilling the demonic cloud into the air. It rumbled, coiling in a sharp spiral down into the cracks Jesse had willed into the floor. Purged, her body started to collapse on itself, but Sam quickly caught her as her knees buckled.

"Is she alright?" Jesse said quickly, desperately wishing they would untie him but not wanting to take either of them from Claire and Ben. Sam was quiet for a moment as he found her pulse.

"Yeah," he confirmed, gently bringing her to the floor. "Just unconscious."

Ben fought against vertigo in an effort to get up and go to her, but Dean's hand caught his chest and pushed him firmly down. "She's fine, Sam's got her. We gotta get that arm set before you go runnin' around." Setting his cane flush against Ben's arm, Dean carefully tied it on with strips of his shirt.

"Then get Jess down, or bring her near me, just- I can't-" Ben screwed his eyes closed in an attempt to hold back the tears welling up in his eyes. "I need to know for myself. She's pregnant."

Sam inhaled audibly from where he was crouched next to her, and without a moment's pause he immediately went to where Jesse was still tied up.

"Hold up there, Sammy," Dean called, glancing over his shoulder but in no doubt that Sam would listen to him. "First I want to know what that was all about. He yelled 'freeze' and everybody actually froze."

Exhaustion creeping into his voice, Jesse said, "I'm a cambion. Jesse Turner. And if you kill me now, that's gonna suck, 'cause you should've done it the first time we met to save us all the trouble."

The very air around the room seemed to fill with static. The next few minutes would be crucial ones, and Ben knew he had to act fast to keep the bomb from going off.

"I trust him with my life," Ben rasped. "Dad, please. We've been hunting together for almost a year."

Finishing Ben's arm, Dean scowled, but there was a thoughtful edge to it. "Sam, you recognize the girl?"

"Yeah. This is..." Sam's brow knitted and he frowned. "Not gonna lie, man, it's weird as hell."

"Fucking 'This Is Your Life' is what it is," Dean muttered. "Go ahead and untie the kid. How's the head, Ben? Think you can sit up?"

Ben nodded, his eyes glued to where Claire was still still settled on the ground, unmoving. He wanted nothing more than to go to her, and it was killing him being coddled the way he was. Sam frowned for a moment, his eyes scouting around along the chains to find the locks.

"I don't suppose you saw where they put the keys?"

"Didn't see anything," Jesse said, listing against his bindings, even though it made his whole body ache. He just wanted out of there so he didn't have to stand anymore.

"Check the man's body," Ben suggested, his head spinning when Dean finally helped him sit up.

"Not his first day at the rodeo, kid. Relax," Dean said, patting his face. He glanced back at Claire, then at Sam and Jesse, before settling more comfortably on the floor. "Saw some weird shit coming in, folks passed out in their beds. You know anything about that?"

"Was a little busy being dragged in to really notice," Ben said in a bitter voice, his eyes still on Claire. "But they're... they're probably the Nephilim."

Sam found the keys easily enough, returning to Jesse's side and carefully unlocking the three main locks. From there it was just a matter of unwinding him, and the moment his body started to loosen, Sam grabbed him firmly around the waist.

"Easy."

Gritting his teeth, Jesse gripped Sam's shoulder as best he could. "Sorry. It's all stiff."

It was automatic; a trigger thrown in her mind as it was slowly acclimating to the rush of awareness. Claire's eyes were still closed, her body shifting woodenly to bring her palms to her face, maybe just to make sure it was _hers_. Somewhere in the fog, she heard Jesse's voice, and responded without thinking: "...that's what she said."

His breath hitching, Jesse jerked to try to run to her, but his legs weren't ready and he sagged in Sam's arms. Not too far away, Ben also made a scramble to go to her. "Claire! Are you alright?"

She groaned through her palms, then pushed her fingers through her hair, finally chancing a squint toward the ceiling of the room until Ben's face appeared over her. She felt all the air leave her lungs. "I take it that _wasn't_ a horrible dream," she gasped, her voice a little cracked. Ben touched every part of her that he could, pain shooting through his broken arm when he tried to move it, but she seemed unharmed save for a few mild bruises.

"It's over now," he told her before crushing his mouth against hers. Only slowly becoming aware of the fresh burn on her arm - which she favored - she held desperately close to him, foregoing breath for those precious seconds until one of her scattered memories pushed itself to the front of her mind.

"Where's Jesse?" she rasped.

"Here," he said quickly, gently extracting himself from Sam and walking over. He moved stiffly, aching with every step, but managed to ease himself down next to them, taking Claire's hand. She pulled him into a needful kiss, paying the same frantic attention to the details of his face as she had with Ben.

"_Thank God_ you're okay." Claire's voice was tight as she addressed both of them, still lost in a small bubble of clarity that was slowly expanding, but for now only included the three of of them.

Jesse didn't pull away, her touch feeling too good, but his eyes did dart to Sam and then Dean. They both were staring in open shock.

"What?" Ben said pointedly, unable to ignore them as easily as Jesse was. Sam gave the slightest smirk before moving to start checking the bodies the demons had inhabited.

Dean gave a snort. "We'll talk about this later," he said, pushing to his feet about as stiffly as Jesse. "Right now we should hightail it. Got a couple coming in, but no telling how many demons are hangin' 'round a place this big."

For the first time since waking, Claire became aware of others in the room. Her eyes shot to Dean, then Sam. The surreal twist to her entire reality suddenly grew a lot stronger-like she'd just been hit hard in the chest. Unable to get any words out, she sought out Ben's eyes. He gave her a weak smile before kissing her forehead.

"Yeah, me too," he said quietly. "But Dean's right, we gotta go regroup. This is the place Ruth told Jesse about."

The words seemed to snap Jesse into focus and he looked around the room, at the bodies on the floor. "Where's my mom?" he snapped, getting to his feet with more ease than he'd had sitting down. "She-she wasn't here when I woke up. Did you-" His eyes went to Sam. "Brown hair, shorter than mine, about this high." He indicated about level with his chin. Sam shook his head, concern in his eyes.

"We didn't see anyone comin' in, actually. Outside of the bodies in the rooms."

Panic burned through the tired calm Jesse had been feeling, but he had nowhere to vent it. "A demon took her. We have to find her," he said, stomach sinking as he turned to Ben and Claire.

"We will," Claire hushed back to him, promising by meeting his eyes and a small squeeze to his hand. Among the stomach-wrenching flashes of tattered memories and detached feelings that remained of her last couple days, one did stick out like white hot metal. She knew the name of the one who was instructed to take Marta. In the meantime, though, her eyes flicked to the two older men making their rounds among unconscious former-hosts, then back to both Ben and Jesse. Her voice fell to a whisper. "But what the hell do we do now?"

"Can't just leave," Ben said. "Too much to clean up."

Brows knitting in a frown, Jesse said quietly, "I could call Ruth. She could take care of the Nephilim, until we have more time."

Ben frowned a little in response, his eyes moving past them to track his father and uncle as they started dragging the dead toward the center of the gym.

"Might be our best bet," he said in the same tone. "Just... be subtle about it, yeah? They're already freaking out, I can see it in their eyes."

"Seriously, mate," Jesse said, a slight edge to his smile. "It's not like they can do worse to me." Before either could say anything, he turned to Sam and Dean. "I'm gonna see if the way's clear. In case there are any more demons around. Won't be long."

He headed for the door. Ben felt his chest constrict with every step away he took, but he steeled up his nerves and slid his good arm around Claire to help her stand.

"There's salt and whatever in the trunk, yeah?" he asked Dean.

Dean turned to look at him. "Might be out of the game, kid, but we ain't dumb. 'Course there is."

It was still surreal, hearing that gruff voice that stuck out in Claire's memory like a broken thumb, effectively stirring up things she had buried a long, long time ago. She couldn't help but watch the two men from the corner of her eye, even as Ben began to lead them down the length of the room toward the door. Only when she couldn't see them any longer did her thoughts clear up. Her hand around his back twisted tight in Ben's shirt.

"I'm alright," she uttered in a tone that indicated she was just fine to walk, but made no effort to move away. She did, however, notice the make-shift splint on his arm, and narrowed her eyes at it. "...is that a _cane_?"

"He's got a bum leg," Ben answered. His lips twisted in a wry smile. "Actually, he's got _no_ leg. It's... a metal thing, and..." His throat closed up and he fell silent as he lead them to the elevator he'd seen on his drag through the building. The demon riding Claire hadn't been so kind to use it.

"A long story," Claire continued on through a subdued sigh. "It always is." 

* * *

><p>There were eight beds in the room. Jesse knew he should hurry, but he couldn't help looking over each sleeping body. They were all so young.<p>

"Ruth? You can come back now."

The words had barely been uttered before the blond appeared, her skin pale and her eyes bright.

[ _Oh god, you're okay, I was so worried left him made to leave didn't want to had to do anything you want-_ ]

"Hi," she managed in a small voice.

He didn't hesitate, pulling her into a hug. "You did exactly what you were supposed to," he said quietly. "I'm sorry he hurt you."

The deep pulse of her emotion amplified with the embrace, and she tightened her arms around him without the slightest hint of hesitation.

[ _Doesn't matter none of it matters would do anything for you love you love you loveyoulove-_ ]

"You're safe. That's all that matters to me," she muffled against his shoulder.

He took a deep breath, his eyes closing as all her warm feelings washed over him. It was a moment before he could speak. "There is something else I need you to do for me."

"Anything," she breathed out. "Whatever you want, it's yours."

The words sent his stomach in an unexpected flop and he pulled away from her. "We don't know if anyone's going to come back soon, so we have to get the other Nephilim somewhere safe. Only I have to go. Could you wake them up and hide them?"

Ruth blinked in surprise, confusion registering in her frequency. "I... this is our home. This is the only place safe that I know."

Jesse frowned slightly. "That wasn't safe, Ruth. Belial was keeping you trapped. We need to stop that from happening again."

[ _People out there that would see us find us hurt us safe here safe from hunters from monsters nothing would harm us here-_ ]

Ruth shook her head. "But he's gone. We're safe now, aren't we?"

He rubbed her arm, shaking his head. "Jezebeth got away, Ruth. And she's angry. She'll probably hurt them if they're still here when she gets back." His scowl deepened. "And without Belial, angels might be able to get in."

Her eyes widened. "But..." she said, fear making her voice tremble. "I... I don't know where. I..." [ _Running always running never still always running nowhere safe so scared always scared_ ]

"Hey, it's alright, it's alright," he soothed, taking both her shoulders. "Okay. Take them to my mom's place. You remember that, right? The house we were just at?"

Ruth nodded, though her face immediate pinched in a frown. "I'm not sure three hundred people are going to fit in that house," she told him.

"Oh. Right. Three hundred." What the hell was he doing? "Okay. There's this beach house. Seemed pretty abandoned. Take my hand, we'll go there, and then I'll bring you back and you can show them the way. They will listen to you, right?"

Ruth nodded, though there was some apprehension in her expression. [ _Never been in charge before always just studied and practiced hope they listen don't wanna fail you_ ] came the rattle of her thoughts.

"But... wait-" [ _You've never moved two, have you?_ ]

"Oh. No. I thought, maybe since you can do it, too, it'd be easier?"

The apprehension doubled at his answer, but Ruth simply slid her hand into his and held on tightly, screwing her eyes shut. Jesse's stomach flopped. Nothing like having the person who never lost faith in him suddenly concerned. Squeezing her hand, he took a breath and they disappeared. 

* * *

><p>It had felt like the longest four hours of Ben's life. The dead had to be salted and burned, and the rooms checked for any other human survivors. It was all too obvious that Sam and Dean had noticed the sudden empty beds, but whatever concerns they had were kept to themselves once it was clear that Ben wasn't about to address them. He suspected they were waiting for the right moment to properly drill him in private, but by the time the sun finally set, it was clear that everyone had reached their pinnacle. Once they were out of the free clinic, they'd found the nearest hotel and checked in, their rooms chosen to be across the way rather than sharing a wall.<p>

Ben sat quietly on the end of the bed, his arm properly braced and taped against his chest, watching as Claire and Jesse warded up the room.

Having so much to do was a relief for Jesse. It kept his mind occupied and focused. It made it easy to just keep moving. He finished the windows and looked around the room. It was sealed up pretty tight. With a sigh, he settled on bed next to Ben, leaning his head on his shoulder.

Despite retaining snippets of memories over the last couple days that Claire wished she could burn from her mind, she had been feeling fairly _good_. It was over. Belial was gone, permanently put down-she pulled the trigger with her own finger, saw the explosion of blood and light with her own eyes. There may've still been a few ends to tie off, but there was no denying a large weight had been lifted from her shoulders. However, something was holding on to Ben and Jesse. She could've been blind and still felt the clouds behind their eyes. Nothing was said, not during the clean-up, or the drive.

The thought that it was understandable shell-shock didn't seem to fit, and with it faded the hopefulness the longer the two of them went without saying anything. Claire watched Jesse's chest deflate when he settled next to Ben; Ben's eyes, with complex earthy shards that were always complicated, but seemed moreso than usual. _A lot_ more.

She pressed down the last piece of salt tape to the window crease and sighed herself, turning to lean on the dresser in front of both of them. The pause that followed seemed thick.

"...so what am I missing?" she said finally, her tone was soft. Ben tensed slightly as he took in a shallow breath, his good hand finding hers and holding on tight.

"Turns out demon possessions are multi-purpose," he said, unable to keep the faint hint of bitter sarcasm out of his voice. He swallowed, then took another breath. "She told us you were already pregnant." Claire just stared at him as the pit of her stomach dropped out, taking most of the blood in her face with it.

"..._what_?"

Jesse's expression tightened as he took her other hand. "It... They said it's mine. But it's alright," he said quickly. "There's pills and things, yeah?"

Claire's jaw went slack as the rest of her thoughts completely imploded. Pale and edging on shock, her legs started to fold under her own weight. She slid awkwardly down to the floor, still holding onto their hands in a tight, slightly trembling grip.

_It's mine..._ Jesse's voice echoed in her head, the tone unmistakable. _Pills and things..._

Ben let go and moved to the ground as carefully as he could, but not before shooting Jesse a disapproving look.

"Hey," he murmured, hating the fact that he couldn't hold her properly. "It's- whatever you choose to do, I'm behind you, okay?"

Shooting his own hurt glare back at Ben, Jesse pulled his legs up onto the bed. "Look, Claire, the things they told me... I promise you, this thing doesn't want to be born."

"What did they tell you, Jesse-" Claire's tightened voice nearly cut him off. Desperation was in her eyes, locked on his face, but born from different fears than those she could see in his gaze. "What _exactly_ did they tell you."

Jesse couldn't look at her, his eyes on his feet. "It's stronger than me. They said there has never been one, part cambion, part vessel. They were _really_ happy about it." He swallowed hard. "And the demon who had you. She said she'd come back for it."

Ben took a breath before letting it out slowly. "Jess, can you give us a minute?"

"No-" Claire injected quickly, looking to Ben. She was unaware of the tear that jumped from the corner of her eye. "I don't want him to leave."

Jesse's eyes darted to Ben, the hurt plain on his face. "This affects me, too. More than you even."

"Stop it," Claire jumped in on him just as quickly. "This affects _all of us_. Equally." Despite the words of diplomacy, her tone trembled. Ben's arm slid away from her and he pushed up to standing, not looking at either of them.

"Really?" he said with a hollow voice as he moved toward the door. "I'm not exactly getting that feeling. So if you wanna discuss your kid together, be my guest." Claire stared at him slack-jawed. Each word stung like a popped stitch. She finally found her voice, dissolving into the hitching sobs she'd been holding back _forever_, just before he reached for the handle.

"Ben... _Ben_, no-no, no no you are _not leaving me like this_."

Ben kept his back turned to them, his hand clenched tight on the door handle. "What the hell am I s'posed to do, just fucking _sit here_?" he said, every word clipped and hard. "I can't do a fucking thing about this. It's _your body_ and it's _his kid_ and my arm's fucking _broken_; what the hell am I even here for? _Tell me._ Because whatever the hell happens in this, I'm still gonna be the awkward third wheel, and I can't-" his voice broke. "-handle that."

"You fucking _child_," Jesse snapped, getting to his feet. "We're _all_ third wheels! We're a fucking tricycle! And this thing doesn't change anything! I mean, c'mon! If it was your baby, would you be telling me to fuck off?"

Ben's shoulders visibly shook, but he didn't turn around.

"I wouldn't be telling her to have an abortion because I couldn't handle it, asshole," he said darkly. "After everything that happened, you just dumped all of it on her. She needed a minute to process it, and you fucking spat in my face. So you know what? Fuck you." He pressed down on the handle, tugging the door open. "I'll be back later after you've both figured this out, since I'm such a fucking child." Before either of them had a chance to stop him, he moved through the door and pulled it shut behind him.

"I need you both," from the floor, Claire's voice barely cut through her own breath, and the tension in the room. Every emotion under the sun tangled in a noxious knot in her throat, tensing as she swallowed around it. The tears didn't stop; the superficial flares of anger and hurt and fear held nothing over the sheer desperation in the only words she managed to utter. "_I need you both_..."

Jesse's stomach tightened as he looked over at her, and he quickly knelt by her side. Taking her hand, he said quietly, "Shit, Claire, I'm sorry. I didn't- I just wanted to help." He looked up at the closed door, and Claire's hand squeezed his hard.

"Get him back," she cried weakly, holding onto his gaze as if it were the last island for a thousand miles. "Don't let it be this way, _please_..."

Though the air felt heavy and all he wanted was to curl up against her, Jesse nodded, jumping straight out the other side of the door.

The silence left in the hotel room in the wake of their departure was deafening. Claire's own heartbeat couldn't drown it out, nor the rush of blood in her ears or the choked hitches of her own breath buried into her knees. Her hands clutched at themselves, shaking too hard to hold still. They wrung together, curled and uncurled into fists, then pushed through her hair. The air became inexplicably warm, and then suddenly there were arms wrapping around her.

"Deep breaths," came the low, soft voice.

Claire answered with an automatic, jagged inhale that shook in her chest. Another flood of tears spilled hot down her cheeks as she buried her face into Kadiel's hair. For once, there was no thought of alarm, no frantic glance to the door, ready to stand between Jesse and the angel if he came back. In that moment, all Claire had left in her was clinging to the comfort the Guardian always offered.

"The demon is dead?" she asked in the same gentle voice, one arm stroking her shoulders.

Claire nodded stiffly, sniffing hard. As she rubbed them with the back of a scarred wrist, her eyes burned and refused to focus on anything, only stared blankly at her knees. "He is. Not the other, though."

"I'll do what I can," Kadiel promised, pulling back to settle in front of her. "We're still trying to reclaim the vessels. Many of them have ended their lives."

Claire's eyes clenched, spilling another rush of tears. Her stomach dropped another level when she heard that.

"God forgive them," she rasped in a pleading whisper. Kadiel brought her hands up to Claire's cheeks, swiping away her tears with her thumbs.

"Be at peace. You have overcome perhaps one of the greatest obstacles of this century."

For the first time, Claire met the other woman's eyes. A tangible wave of good will and calm pushed its way into her thoughts, but it was only a temporary relief. Enough for her to focus on the perspective: killing an ageless Prince of Hell was definitely a big deal. Yet somehow, the imagined cluster of life in her core and everything that came with it seemed monumentally bigger.

"Is it true?" she asked in a breath. The angel's warm brown eyes met hers, her expression softening slightly.

"Yes." Her hands came up to stroke her hair. "The outcome changed with the road you chose to take, but your conceiving a child was always meant to happen."

Claire felt a thick vibration chase itself throughout her body, shaking in her breath. There it was-solid proof she knew she could trust, and despite the empathic look in Kadiel's eyes, Claire couldn't help but tense.

"_What_ has changed? What does that mean for-" _my baby_. The words stopped before they left her lips, which rolled tightly as Claire looked back down at her knees. Memories of Amitiel's dream-scape were haunting her, and had been ever since Ben and Jesse told her the news. She tried again, weaker. "What does that _mean_?"

Kadiel stroked her hair again, that same deep sadness reverberating in her eyes. "You know I can't tell you."

She felt a hard throb of nervousness twist in her heart. In her current state, the angel's words seemed ominous. Claire's brows knitted together, pleading with her watery eyes. "What _can_ you tell me? What about the other one-the one who showed me 'the future'... can _he_ tell me anything?"

The angel pulled back further, her gaze turning off toward the door.

"Amitiel has been given new orders," she said quietly. "You would do well to avoid him."

Claire went silent for a moment, searching her face for any scrap of information to put those words into context. Of course, with Kadiel's near perfect poker face, she found none. All she had to go on was what she already knew, combined with what sounded like a very carefully worded warning.

When she did speak, her voice fell flat. "I'm going to be hunted... by _both sides_?"

It was that question that brought Kadiel's gaze back to her. "If that were the case, I wouldn't be here now," she answered gently. "You would have been claimed the moment the demon had been expelled from you. That's all I can say; please don't ask me for more." The angel found her hands and took them, holding on tightly. "I cannot disobey. My purpose is guidance. They would take me from you."

"Then _guide me_," she pleaded, squeezing the other woman's hands. They were so warm.

"You must love this child," Kadiel told her. "With every part of you. Everything will change with the coming birth, in ways that are still being written."

Love... Love wasn't the problem, and it took the simple reminder of an angel to knock Claire's perspective back where it belonged. She stared into Kadiel's ageless eyes, full of perfect love and concern. She'd known eyes like that before, with her parents.

"I do," Claire whispered, quiet in her honesty. The chaotic trembling in her body had started to congeal, pulled into her center. She felt it as a swelling; of duty, of faith. Of love and courage, and even pride. "I will." 

* * *

><p>Ben was already well down the hallway.<p>

"Ben, stop! Please, Claire needs you," Jesse called, jogging to catch up.

Even at Jesse's call, Ben found his feet still moving, wanting desperately to put distance between himself and the source of his alienation. At the end of the day, when the bad guy had been vanquished and the people saved, somehow it all seemed to amount to nothing in the face of their new dilemma. He turned down into the stairwell at a faster speed, taking the steps at a rapid pace for all that he knew Jesse could easily cut him off. But Jesse didn't. He hurried as best he could, his heart clenching, but Ben just kept getting further away. He took the turn in the stairs sharply.

"Ben, Ben, please. I'm sorry." Panic pitched his voice high. "Ben, you can't leave us again!"

It'd been a good thing he'd been on a landing just then, because no doubt Ben would have tripped over the stairs and gone hurtling to his death from those words alone in his haste to turn around. Guilt, it seemed, still was the perfect arrow through his heart.

"Whatever it is you're lookin' for, I can't give it to you," he said in a strained voice. "Over and over I've tried, and every time you've just taken whatever it was out of my hands and done it yourself, so just-... stop actin' like my bein' here matters."

Jesse froze on the stairs, staring down at him as the words hit home. He opened his mouth but nothing came out, so he closed it again. Then in three quick steps he was at the landing, holding Ben tight and not giving a damn about his arm.

"They were going to kill me," he said quietly, his forehead pressed against Ben's neck. "They were going to take their time. And they were going to keep Claire and raise a monster. That's what would have happened if you weren't there."

Ben screwed his eyes shut against the pain, his whole body stiffening in spite of the hold. He wasn't sure if he could believe what Jesse said, but the words rolled through him regardless, untwisting the thorns that had settled in his gut at being shoved aside so easily.

His grip tightening, Jesse said, "The whole reason I went ahead was I knew, if I fucked up, if it didn't work, you'd save me. And you did. So you fucking matter to me."

It was those words that finally broke the tension in Ben's shoulders and he sagged, a shuddering breath pressing out of him. It had been one thing to hear Claire's speculation, what felt like ages ago in the eye of the storm, but it was quite another to hear it directly from Jesse.

"I don't-..." he said in a choked voice, pressing his face against Jesse's shoulder. "I dunno what I'm s'pose to do. What'm I s'pose to do?"

"Fuck if I know," Jesse breathed, closing his eyes. "But we're going to go back to Claire and I'm going to shut my stupid mouth until she's ready to talk about it. It's not like we have to hurry."

Ben shuddered again, but nodded and carefully pulled out of the other man's embrace. Not knowing what to say, he reached for the railing and started the slow trudge back up the stairs. Stepping up next to him, Jesse slid an arm around his waist as they silently made their way back to the room. 

* * *

><p>Ben made it a point of opening the door and moving through it first, though a small part of him immediately twisted up painfully at finding Claire still on the floor where they'd left her. Where <em>he'd<em> left her. With a deep breath he moved to settle on the floor next to her, anxiety and regret clear and evident in his eyes. Jesse hesitated a moment before moving to her other side, the tension settling back into his expression.

Despite having not moved, or the hot mess she'd been minutes earlier, there was something eerily calm, _collected_, about Claire. She lifted her eyes to Ben, letting them linger there in silence for what felt like a thickened heart beat.

He kept her gaze, lips pressed thin and heart aching before he finally reached up tentatively to touch her cheek.

"I wasn't gonna..." he started quietly, but the words got lost midway to his lips and he fell silent again.

"Remember what you said," she whispered immediately, almost cutting him off. He swallowed hard but nodded, looking rapidly between her eyes. She watched them for another heavy pause, then reached for his good hand. The other sought out Jesse's, and she spoke to them both.

"No anger. No guilt-not for tonight." She was steeling her voice with a new-found faith that would be impossible to convey to either of them right now. They were terrified, wound tight and lost in the storm; she could see it in their eyes. Claire had her anchor-now she had to be theirs. "Promise me."

"I promise," Ben vowed. "I..." he swallowed again, looking over at Jesse where he sat. Suddenly the promise he'd made to her before leaving seemed that much harder to follow through with, not without making things phenomenally worse.

Staring at her, Jesse couldn't help but love Claire all the more. He felt like a mess inside, but here she was, strong as ever. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her lips. "Promise."

Claire felt her heart constrict when Ben's words failed him again, then once more at the subtle spark behind Jesse's chaste kiss. "I love you," she told them, with no question that the statement was for both. Every nerve in her body was buzzing with the fearful anticipation that she knew plagued both of them as well, but that didn't change the fact that what was done was done, and what would come had already been set in motion. _Deep breaths_; Kadiel's voice still echoed in her mind. _It is still being written._

"Have faith," she said finally; a phrase that could be tossed around so easily by those who frivolously called themselves 'faithful'. From her, it held the stone-washed conviction of a would-be martyr. "Have faith _in me_."

Ben's eye's softened and he finally leaned in to kiss her, putting everything he had into the press of his mouth against hers. The emotion in his chest swelled until he finally pulled away. "Always. I've never lost faith in you."

Feeling a little guilty, Jesse gave her hand a squeeze. "We should get to bed. Think we all need sleep."

Ben rolled his lips together, his expression a little pained. "I, uh. I need to talk with my dad. He's probably got a hundred things he wants to say to me."

Claire laced her fingers with Jesse's, squeezing, though her eyes were on Ben. A twinge raced through her, a driving need to make everything about this night as painless as possible; they needed it, _so much_. "Do you want us to come with you?"

He shook his head, kissing her again before bringing his eyes to Jesse. "No. This is something I gotta do on my own." He swallowed again, chewing his lips and taking a breath. "C'mere."

Jesse's brows knit in a slight frown, not liking the idea of Ben going off alone, even if it was just across the hall. But he didn't hesitate, leaning forward and meeting Ben's lips. Ben brought his hand up to settle at the back of his neck before he had a chance to pull away, deepening the kiss for a brief, intense moment.

"I'll be right back. Don't run off without me, yeah?"

Claire watched them both, but tracked Ben as he started for the door. Her eyes held the same apprehension as Jesse's expression, but it was tempered. If anything, they seemed to say '_hurry_'. "We'll be here." 

* * *

><p>Ben took a deep breath on the other side of the door before letting it out, feeling a twist of anxiety in his chest not too unlike when he'd first driven up to Bobby Singer's house. He'd been properly plagued by worry and fear for Claire and Jesse then, but now that things were over... there would be more talking now. A lot more. He didn't feel ready at all, but he knew deep down that by this point it needed to be done. It was either that or risk his father shadowing his every step.<p>

Crossing the short distance, he brought his hand up to the door and knocked twice. It was only a moment before Dean answered, looking older in the stark hall light.

"Hey kid, c'mon in," he said, stepping back. He also looked nervous. "Sam's gone to pick up some grub."

Taking the invitation for what it was, Ben slid in and shut the door quietly behind him. His eyes immediately scanned the place out of habit, though it came to no surprise that it was thoroughly warded up.

"Buddy of ours made this salt tape," he said conversationally. "Works great by the door, so you don't have to keep putting down lines. I'll see if we've got a roll to pass over to you later."

Dean frowned. "Salt in tape? That works?"

"There's a couple set backs, but they're no worse than setting down lines, honestly," the younger man replied, finding a chair to sit in. "Stays put better, that's for sure. Easier to hide, less conspicuous."

"Right. Send her along," Dean said, his mind clearly elsewhere as he moved to sit on the bed. His hands rubbed just above his knees before he finally looked at Ben. "So you plannin' on telling me the truth about what just went down?"

"Does it matter, now that it's done?" Ben asked him honestly.

"Depends on if this was just a one-off," he said, his expression severe. "'Cause there's one thing I expect from family, and that's trust."

Ben swallowed hard, his eyes immediately falling to the ground.

"I know," he said quietly. "And I want you to. I want you to trust me. I just don't wanna risk their lives so that you do."

"Right," Dean said again, his eyebrows raised. "Your girlfriend and her boyfriend."

In spite of the tense atmosphere, Ben couldn't help but crack a faint smile at the floor as he brought his head up.

"It's a little more complicated than that, but yeah."

"Fuck, kid," Dean shook his head. "You know what a cambion can do, right?"

"It's been a year," Ben answered. "I'm well aware. That doesn't change anything."

"And that whole summoning a demon thing? You know what you're doin' with that, too?" Dean said, a little heat in his voice.

"She isn't a demon," Ben said. "She's a Nephilim. They're hybrids, but on the opposite spectrum, far as I can tell. Belial was making them to follow Jesse."

Dean blinked at him. "Hold up. You mentioned them before. What's a Nephilim?"

Ben sighed, then ran the hand of his unbroken arm through his hair. "Doc told me I shouldn't go mixing booze with the pills they gave me, but I think I'm gonna need a drink by the end of this," he prefaced. Choosing his words carefully, Ben started tracing back over the journey. He was particularly careful to keep information about the full extent of Ruth's abilities and Claire's pregnancy out of the retelling. Dean remained all but silent for the bulk of it, his face pinched in a thoughtful scowl that only broke when Sam returned with their food. Ben's eyes grew tired with every new detail, and by the time he was finished his eyes had settled back on the ground again. The room had gone quiet, and the food cold.

Running his hands over his face, Dean leaned his elbows on his knees, looking up at Ben. He didn't know how to react to much of it, especially since it became clearer than ever that Ben had every right to be mad at him. So he stuck to just trying to figure things out instead of talking about it. "So this Jezebitch. She said somethin' about a child?"

"I don't know," Ben lied. "She means a lot to us. This... kid means a lot to us. If it's hers and mine, well..." He swallowed. "He mentioned Michael, just as he tried to kill me."

Sam visibly tensed where he sat. Dean's nostrils flared as he straighted his back. "That fucker isn't getting out of his hole. And if he does, I'll tear him a new one and stuff him down it."

Ben couldn't stop the way his smile leaned into one side of his cheek. He took a breath and let it out again, moving his hand through his hair once more. "And if it's Jesse's..."

He left the sentence hanging, knowing that his father and uncle would figure it out. Of course, Ben already knew; Belial had said it himself just as he was readying the blow that would kill him. His heart clenched in his chest as the confession made it halfway to his mouth before dying. He couldn't risk Claire's life, or the life of the child.

"Either way, it's my problem. But now you know."

"Right." Discomfort and uncertainty settled on Dean's face again. He glanced towards Sam. "Thanks. Look, if you ever need... We got a pretty steady number now."

Ben looked at him, meeting his gaze and feeling his stomach twist up in knots. "Yeah. That'd... that'd be great."

Sam sighed and stood up, grabbing up the food and heading toward the kitchenette. The microwave was set on, and in minutes he was coming back with three beers. Before either of them could even thank him, he took his and moved through the sliding door leading onto the balcony and shut it behind him.

Dean gave a light snort. "Try livin' with that drama queen for forty years." He took a long pull from his beer.

"I'm sure Claire could put up a fair argument to that," Ben pointed out with a small smile, peeling at the label out of habit once he'd taken a drink. There were still so many questions to ask, so many things he wanted to say, and he could tell by the tension in Dean's shoulders that he felt the same. There just wasn't enough time.

"You leavin' in the mornin' then, I take it?"

Taking another drink before answering, Dean said, "Probably. Job's done." He was silent a moment. "Y'know, this ain't the life I wanted for you. But I'll admit, you're pretty damn good at it."

Ben felt heat rush into his face at the compliment and ducked his head, fighting off the sudden swell of emotion. The laugh he gave sounded very close to a sob. "Thank you. Means a lot to me t'hear you say that."

Dean shrugged, studying his beer. "How's Lisa?"

"How d'you think?" Ben asked, reaching into his pocket to find his phone. Sure enough, there were at least twelve missed calls from his mother when he brought up the call log screen. "That's after four days of no contact. I'm sure there'll be a few messages too, and a couple threats to my old baseball card collection in storage."

Dean's eyes crinkled in a smile but there was a heaviness behind it and he took another swig. "Should probably let you get back to your girlfriend and her boyfriend," he said, giving a breath of a laugh. "How the hell you find those two, anyway? The books?"

"They kinda found me," Ben replied, biting his lower lip as he dropped the phone back into the depths of his pocket and picked up his beer again where he'd rested it on the floor. "Not at the same time, but... yeah. Not gonna lie, I got chills when they told me they knew you. Feels too much like design rather than accident sometimes, but the way everyone seems so surprised, I dunno." He let out a huff of a breath, taking a deep swig from the beer. Nerves raced through him and he put his eyes on his feet for what felt like the hundredth time that night. "You've got the details a little wrong, though."

"...Yeah?" Dean was wary, not missing Ben's body language, and Ben took another short swig from the brown bottle.

"We're... it's- we're not-" The microwave went off and he jumped, then gave an awkward laugh. "Y'know what, nevermind. It doesn't matter. I'm gonna... go."

Dean wanted to ask but held back. He had a feeling it wasn't exactly demon-related. "Yeah. We'll see you in the mornin' though, before we head out."

Ben hefted himself up to his feet, finishing off the last of the beer before shoving the label into his pocket. "I'll get that number from you in the mornin', then. G'night."

Lips pursed, Dean nodded. "'Night, kid." 

* * *

><p>Needless to say, sleep wasn't going to come easy to any of them that night. It <em>should<em> have. The greatest threat to them and humanity - as they knew it - was dead and gone. They _should_ have been able to kick back, let the air out of their lungs, and just sleep. Probably for a week, if possible.

But fate had a different plan.

It was probably the mild narcotic Ben had taken for his arm that finally allowed him to drift off. Claire had gone between watching him and watching Jesse as they lay there in the dark, _trying_ to sleep. Restlessness came with their territory; all of them were used to it by now. Only this night did Claire start to re-evaluate exactly how okay she was with it-and so many other things.

She extracted herself from them quietly, and with care. Lying there waiting for sleep only resulted in a whirlwind of chaos in her mind. Maybe if she separated herself a little, she could organize her thoughts and find a firmer hold on the strengthened faith Kadiel's words had given her.

She'd hardly sat by the window a moment though before Jesse spoke up quietly. "You alright?" He was already off the bed, coming to stand beside her. She looked up at him, nodding after a slight hesitation. Her intention had been to watch the world outside; the lights of the highway traffic, and the distant haze of a larger city against the dark-all visual white noise to give her mind some breed of rest. But now that he was in her field of vision, Claire couldn't look away from Jesse's face.

She didn't say anything yet, just scooted a bit on the ledge by the window with a gestured invitation to sit. He settled next to her, sliding a hand over hers, his eyes glancing down at her stomach. Which he knew was stupid; it wasn't like there was anything to see.

"I'd...sorta thought you must be on some kind of birth control," he said with a weak smile.

Claire's shoulders twitched with the silent puff of air from her nose. Combined with the almost non-existent smirk on her lips, the aborted laugh set the droll tone in her voice, even at a whisper. "I _was_." Without thinking, she angled her palm to his and laced their fingers together. "But they didn't exactly keep me on any meds in Oregon."

_Fucking idiot._ His expression tightened briefly before he let out a breath, giving her hand a squeeze. "Right. Yeah." He licked his lips, studying their hands. "I'm sorry I did this to you."

Claire watched him as he watched the connection between their fingers. Her thumb brushed back and forth on his skin, which was still soft and warm from sleep. The self-depreciation in his expression was painful to see; it was the same look she saw so often in Ben's eyes. How they could think so low of themselves at times-it was a hurtful puzzle she just couldn't figure out.

"Look at me," she offered. He glanced up, though his head was still bowed.

"You've never wronged me. Not now. Not ever."

"I should've been more careful. I should've thought things through before acting," he said, his eyes locked on hers. "You got hurt because of me. And I'm not going to let it happen again."

Claire's shoulders deflated with a long, slow nasal sigh. She let her head rest against the window, but in that moment, her eyes were all for him.

"I know it feels different right now, Jess, but the world isn't sitting on your shoulders." By instinct, maybe, certainly not by any conscious thought, Claire's free hand had settled across the low flat of her stomach, bunching in the thin cotton t-shirt.

He watched her hand, his stomach twisting. He opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. Nodding, he said, "Right. I know."

"C'mere," she said after a pause, watching his eyes shift and his jaw tighten with anxiety his word couldn't hide.

He only paused a moment before leaning into her open arms, his head resting on her shoulder. She curled her arms around him, stroking his hair with one hand.

"You need to stop being the sensible one all the time, y'know," he said lightly, and putting a tired, but genuine smile on her face.

"Oh, don't worry-" she started, pausing long enough to press a warm kiss to his hair. "I'll be a hormonal monster soon enough."

He wrapped his arms around her, though his stomach twisted at the words. "So you're... It's..." He wished Ben was awake to find some way to say this that wasn't asshatty.

Claire didn't say anything for a moment, only continued to stroke his hair. Her lips folded between her teeth when the initial sting hit her eyes. She knew he was scared. She knew _why_ he was scared. Someday, she'd find a way to make it clear to him that she felt everything as acutely as him, but for right now... clips and phrases shot through her mind, auditioning to find the right words. In the end, there was only as much as Kadiel could give her: the vague hope of the faithful.

"Jesse..." she breathed, curling her hand lovingly into his hair, then letting it go to stroke down his back. "You have to trust me in this."

His hands rubbed her back as he gave a sigh. "But I know what it's like," he said quietly. "Being chased your whole life. Being afraid. Having no one like you. It's not the life you want for a child. Neither is a hunter's life."

Again, there was a pause on Claire's end as knee-jerk reactions and more words didn't make it through her censoring. The things he said, she valued. She understood, more than she believed he could comprehend at the moment, but reaffirming them would only strengthen his fears. Not to mention her own.

"Would you rather not ever have been born?" she finally asked, not much more than a whisper.

Jesse was silent for a long time. He bit his lip. "Not right now, no. But sometimes. Would've been easier. Wouldn't have to worry about the endgame."

"Baby," Claire's voice was still low. Her eyes closed, and she nuzzled against his temple by simple need to be close. "_You_ are worth everything you've had to live through."

His face grew warm and he nuzzled closer against her. "Wish I'd always had you."

She centered on the coil of his breath in her hair, and the warm resistance his presence pushed when she breathed in deep. He was undeniable, in so many ways-most times restless and unmanageable as the sea, but Claire held onto this wave of calm, squeezing him tighter.

"You always will."

He fell into silence as he held her. Even though he still didn't agree, and knew the conversation wasn't over, it could be for tonight. They had time. 

* * *

><p>Ben knew the reason why they hadn't called Ruth yet, but that didn't make his morning routine any less frustrating. He gave up trying to shave altogether, since it was virtually impossible to work the lather onto his face with only one functioning arm. At least he could pour the shampoo directly onto his head and work it from there, but it was still slow going.<p>

When he heard the bathroom door open, he let out a sigh of relief.

"This sucks," he said in a low voice.

Claire didn't say anything for the moment, trying to keep her eyes from automatically landing on his arm, kept out of the water's reach in the shower. She didn't remember much, but his scream was still floating around somewhere in her memories. She doubted she'd ever get rid of it.

"When I was six," she started as she pushed the curtain back a little. "I fell out of the willow tree in our back yard and broke both my wrists at the same time." Claire swallowed lightly, gently guiding the shampoo bottle from Ben's hand. "That was a fun summer."

Ben tried to imagine the scene, of a little blond Claire being picked up by her parents and rushed out to the hospital, but somehow the image only stirred up different emotions. Even her hands working through his hair couldn't wipe his mind clear of racing thoughts, but he stayed quiet. So did Claire for a bit, taking her time. The slowness wasn't all bad. She needed this time to catch her breath in the light of everything, and she knew he did, too.

Eventually, her lips pressed the curve of his shoulder, wet and hot from the water. "Talk to me."

Ben let out a shaky sigh, leaning back into her embrace. "It's not that I don't want to," he said quietly. "I just... can't find the words."

Claire nodded into his wet hair, understanding that concept all too well. Unfortunately, that was the only thing she was about to relate to with him, right now. They normally understood each other without fail; on base levels, where words were secondary and instinct and raw emotion meshed. But she had no way of knowing what was going on in his head this time. It was unnerving, to put it lightly-like she was grasping blindly for him in the dark.

"I love you," she finally settled on, because that was the only solid thing running through her head. Claire rested her chin on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him a little tighter. His good arm slid over the top of hers, the sound of the plastic bag on his cast rustling and awkard.

"Love you, too," he murmured. Again, he took a slow breath and released it. "I'm sorry, for everything that's happened. I was supposed to have your back, and I..."

He felt her head shake lightly, as well as a slow breath. Claire's eyes closed at the twinge of constriction in her chest.

"No regrets," she said tightly. "You've never done wrong by me. Not ever."

Ben opened his eyes, biting back the argument that came so quickly to mind. He didn't want to argue with her, even if he felt deep in his heart that he'd failed her. After everything that had happened, it really was trivial. He gave her hand a light squeeze.

"I just want you to know..." he started, his voice still pitched low. "What I said before, I meant it. Whatever you choose to do, I'll support you."

Claire was quiet for a heartbeat or two, filling the space by flexing her fingers so they laced in the spaces between his. Her chest inflated, pushing against his back. The breath she let out was a little uneven.

"Kadiel came to me last night..."

Ben felt his pulse double. "And?"

Claire's lips folded between her teeth. The prior night had been a blur, a tidal wave of emotions and fears that finally calmed enough to at least regain her footing, thanks to the angel in their room. It wasn't going to be easy to convey that, when she was barely hanging onto it herself. "_Neither_ side seems to know anything, except that 'everything will change'." Without thinking about it, Claire grip on him tightened. Despite the calm in her voice, she was obviously scared. "We're this baby's best chance."

Ben twisted lightly in her embrace until they were facing each other, making sure to meet her eyes.

"I..." he started, then chewed on his lip and tried again. "I'll love that child no matter what happens. Just know that." She answered his words with a watery smile, then closed her eyes, pressing their brows together.

Words didn't seem to be enough for the warmth that bloomed through her, calming the subtle tremble beneath her skin. She just brushed her lips against his and stayed quiet, breathing him in. It was a long time before either of them spoke, but it was Ben who broke the silence.

"When you said... 'remember that promise,'last night," he said quietly. "Did you mean what I said the night before I left?"

Claire eased her shoulders back enough to focus on his face. Streaked by water, his long hair heavy and pushed back from his face; tired and uncertain as he looked, it still took a little of her breath away. She nodded solemnly, pursing her lips. Again, Ben felt his heart take off at a gallop.

"And you still..." he added, unable to fully form the words.

"I'd marry you tonight, if you want."

It felt like all the air had imploded in his chest, but Ben couldn't fight back the sudden smile. "What'll our aliases be?"

Despite the contagious warmth in his smile, Claire's own dimmed only slightly. The thought of a fake name, _this time_, soured in her stomach. It brought a sobering reality to her mind, that because of their circumstances, they could never be _legally_ married, with all the things that might follow his name, and her still being hunted by the damn FBI. But... in her heart, she still had faith.

"_Our names_," she said finally, a glimmer of planning behind her gaze. "But I have to get in contact with someone Kat knows. And it might take a few days."

"I've waited this long for you," he murmured, brushing his lips against hers and staying close. "I think I can handle a few days more."

Her smile was back. For the first time in a long while, it shimmered with the hint of being carefree, even girlishly excited-even if it was for only a second. "We'll head that way as soon as we get some food and something other than that god-damned dress."

Ben winced slightly. "Might have to take a side-trip to get the Beast back, then. I think Jess left it somewhere in Nebraska."

Claire's smile predictably started to melt away, replaced by something that mixed confusion and apprehension. 

* * *

><p>Places like this didn't normally offer the usual 'continental breakfast' as part of the room deal, but the smell of the desk-clerk's fresh pot of coffee reminded Claire how hungry she was as she stepped off the stairwell and into the lobby. The boys would be down soon, and they would make a quick run to the nearest Walmart after stuffing themselves at the Denny's across the street. Until then, she was forced to wear the sundress and heels she'd woken up in. Not ideal, but it was at the back of her mind for now.<p>

She didn't know exactly why she smoothed her hair when she caught the sound of Dean talking to Sam around the lobby corner. Her stomach had been a net of butterflies whenever random memories slipped through her careful attempts to keep them under lock and key. Now... who knew how long it would be before she would see them again. She had to do this; maybe it'd help put her father to rest, at least in her mind. Claire stopped at the archway, her hands folded daintily in front of her skirt, a relic of old propriety taught in her household and school. She cleared her throat lightly, unable to think of anything that would be less invasive, but still get their attention.

When Dean turned to find Claire standing behind them, he very carefully schooled his expression not to change. He knew she wasn't Cas's daughter, but she was inextricably tied to his memory, and even the best of that was bittersweet.

"Good morning," he said with a small nod. Sam turned his head a half second later, his eyes showing a brief flicker of surprise before he was able to stop himself. Likewise, he nodded in greeting.

For a split second, Claire had to push down a small flare of self-consciousness that seemed to come out of nowhere. She felt like the world was suddenly staring at her, at the painless, but visible hatch marks across her wrists and shoulders, exposed by the dress. These two men, especially, for reasons she didn't understand-Claire didn't want them to see. Unfortunately this was the only time frame she had to make her peace.

"I don't really know where to start this, so I'll just say it..." Her eyes switched between them, landing on Dean. "I never got the chance to thank you."

"It was nothin'," Dean said quickly. Then he shrugged. "S'our job. And you're important to Ben."

Claire's hands fiddled with each other-an old nervous habit that she squashed the next moment. "I'm not talking about yesterday, or Ben."

Sam's brows furrowed for a moment before realization dawned on his face.

"Still applies," he added. "We're just sorry we weren't able to stop it from happening altogether. You didn't deserve that." Claire met Sam's eyes with a small, sad, but thoughtful smile.

"It's never been about what we deserve. _Any_ of us." Her blue eyes slid back to Dean. "What happened to my father was going to happen anyway. Because of you two, I was able to _know_." Her smile twitched with another flare of something bittersweet in her gaze. "Gave me a fighting chance."

"Well. Guess that's one good thing we did," Dean said with a quirked smile.

Claire felt her lips pull to the side, almost mirroring the expression. The temptation was there, refusing to fade; to ask them if they knew anything about where Castiel had taken her dad, but she dutifully stayed silent on the matter. She wasn't sure why, but instinct was telling her, by the look in both mens' eyes, it would be useless. That wasn't the reason she came down here alone, anyway. Instead, Claire slowly stepped forward, her arms curling around Dean's shoulders for a grateful hug. Dean stiffened, his eyes wide, before he awkwardly put an arm around her and patted her back. Sam's shoulders visibly shook with silent laughter.

By some twist of fate, the obvious awkwardness that saturated Dean's reaction actually broke a bit of tension under Claire's skin. Her expression softened from its somber memories, and she couldn't help but smile at him as she pulled back, just a little.

"Thanks for the effort, Oprah," she teased him lightly, finally releasing him. It was those words that had Sam finally break down into a proper, loud laugh. Dean shot a glare at Sam but it was somewhat ruined by his smile.

"Far as I can see, you're pretty well taken. I'm just respectin' boundaries," he teased. Claire immediately snorted.

"Right. _Boundaries._" There was enough humor in her voice to pull her smile from ear to ear, even as she stepped on her toes to give Sam a hug, too. Sam was much less stiff about the display of affection, though he was careful not to embrace her too roughly.

"Take care, yeah?" he said to the crown of her head.

"Still alive, aren't we?" she replied, giving him a final squeeze before stepping back. Ben and Jesse came around the corner from the stairwell, shoulder to shoulder and fingers intertwined. The younger man's face was deeply crimson, but he was smiling. Jesse was too, but his steps faltered when he saw Sam and Dean - particularly Dean - staring at them.

"G'mornin'," he half-mumbled.

Sam's smirk was back with reinforcements. Claire followed the near-tangible line of awkward stares back to their origin: Jesse and Ben's mild display of affection. It didn't take a genius to understand how hard the brakes hit in Dean's brain. Their unique situation had been brought up before, but never had it been so showcased as now. Couldn't have happened to more appropriate people, either.

"What can we say-" she spoke to the Winchesters, for all three of them. A slight tick canted her shoulder up in a dry-humored half-shrug. "We had weird childhoods."

Dean raised an eyebrow at her but his gaze quickly returned to Ben. "We needa talk," he said, jerking his head towards the door. Ben slid his hand out of Jesse's, feeling a jump in his gut as he followed a few steps behind his retreating father. Dean walked along the side of the hotel, stopping about fifteen feet from the door and turning around.

"Look me in the eye, kid," he said, his voice stern. "You sure he ain't messin' with your head?"

The sudden stop was enough to send Ben's heart into his throat, though it was his father's words that put a frown on his face.

"He isn't," he said flatly.

"Don't gimme that look and pretend whatever's goin' on here is normal and I ain't supposed to be thrown." Dean's voice managed to stay even. "Two dudes, yeah, whatever floats your boat. I even heard some like men and women. But both at the same time is verging on freaky-deaky."

"It works for us," Ben said, his eyes pointed at his feet. "It... he thought he was messing with our heads at first, but he did once with me. Not on purpose, but... I can tell, when he is and when he isn't, and he isn't."

Dean pursed his lips but nodded. "Right. Ain't like you're a little kid that needs me tellin' you what to do." He fished in his pocket, pulling out a small sheet of hotel paper. "But if there's anything you need, or any trouble, you got me, alright?"

Ben took it it gingerly and shoved into his pocket, finally bringing his eyes back up to his father's. Now that the awkwardness had passed, all that was left now was the torn feeling between wanting to make him stay or leaving with him; both options he knew were out of the question.

"Thanks."

Hesitating a moment, Dean pulled him into a hug that was only slightly awkward. Ben stiffened slightly, before letting out a shuddering breath and winding his good arm around him in return.

"Give your mom a call, okay?"

"I will," he said quietly. "Thanks for savin' my ass again."

"Happy to," Dean said as he pulled back. "Though if you don't keep good care of that gun, I'll have to kick your ass next."

Ben gave a wet-sounding laugh in reply, keeping his head tilted down as he nodded again. "Might just have to now, just to make sure you keep that promise."

Dean gave his head a light shove. "Don't be a jerk; that's my job."

"Runs in the family, I guess," Ben answered with a wry smile. "Go, your girlfriend is waiting for you in the lobby."

That earned him a smack to the back of the head before Dean headed for the door. Ben lingered outside for a few minutes longer, rubbing the tears out of his eyes with the heel of his hand before he finally started back in. He had one last chance to look at them as they passed on their way out the door.

"So Jess, think you can get us a car?"


End file.
